Regaining Memories
by Rachel9
Summary: once again loses Buffy, but 100 years later, she returns. However, her return isn't what he expected. As the two of them are trying to deal with what's going on, they also have the apocalypse to deal with. B/S (Obviously!) *Now FINISHED!*
1. Prologue

Regaining Memories ****

By Rachel

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

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Rating: PG-13

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Summary: Spike once again loses Buffy, but 100 years later, she returns. However, her return isn't what he expected. As the two of them are trying to deal with what's going on, the two have the apocalypse to deal with.

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Spoilers: Let's just say everything up to "Hell's Bells" or so. I started writing this post-"Hells Bells" and the suddenly quit and didn't restart until mid-June. This takes place 100 years from then, but bits and pieces of 6th season especially will show up. So spoilers from the season finale (Especially the ending) aren't in this story. 

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Author's Notes: _______ Signifies thoughts. *________* Signifies stressed words. Scenes in Italics are flashbacks/dreams. 

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Distribution: My site, Sinister Attraction, the groups I'm sending them out to, and....anyone else can just ask me first! (I'll probably say 'yes')

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Feedback? OF COURSE!

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Special Thanks: I just want to thank Sandy, who beta-ed the fic for me. Thanks for all the tips and comments, you're too sweet! This story would have never been posted anywhere if it weren't for you talking me into it!

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It was a bright and sunny day. Spike was dressed in his usual all black outfit and leather jacket and was surrounded by a huge crowd of strangers. The sun was beaming down on him, forcing Spike to squint as he gazed at the people standing around him. Funny, there's sunlight out, he thought to himself. I shouldn't even be here. Immediately, he knew that something was wrong with this scenario.

When the crowd unexpectedly parted, Spike suddenly saw a familiar face standing in front of him. She was wearing a dark blue dress that fell to the ground, something elegant that he'd never seen her wear before. Her hazel eyes were glistening in the sunlight, and Spike had never before seen a bigger smile on her face before. 

That "familiar face" was Buffy.

This is unreal, he told himself. It's bloody impossible. Spike stared at Buffy for another second before wondering, Can this really be happening?. All of the strangers suddenly disappeared in a flash; yet, it took Spike a moment to realize that standing there, less than twenty feet away from him, was his love that he had lost so long ago. Spike started to walk up to her, and Buffy did the same, her pace quickening by the second. 

Buffy ran up to Spike and flew into his open arms. Spike looked down at her and placed his hands over her cheeks, feeling her warm skin. He trailed his fingers down her cheeks before they lightly traveled across her lips. Buffy kissed his fingers before she started raising her head, her lips begging to be kissed. When Spike met lips with Buffy, his world exploded. He hungrily continued the kiss, wanting to hold onto his golden goddess for an eternity. 

The two kissed forever, neither one of them wanting to pull back and stop; but Buffy slowly pulled back. "Spike," she started. "Can you wait for me a little bit longer?"

"I'll always be waiting for you, love."

"Good, because I'm back. Can you believe it? I'm back!" she said, excitedly. 

She sounds like the same, happy Buffy that I used to know, Spike thought, grinning down at her as he felt her warm breath blow past his cheeks. "Back?" he questioned. 

"Terrible things are coming," Buffy spoke.

"Aren't they always?" Spike asked, his grin turning into his usual smirk.

"I'm serious. Spike...you have to be ready. Be ready for anything," Buffy commanded. "And find her. Find the Slayer."

"Find the slayer?" Spike asked her, not understanding what she was trying to tell him. "I...I don't understand-"

"I missed you," she said, changing the subject once again.

"I miss you more each day," he whispered. Spike smiled as he breathed in her sweet scent of vanilla and flowers. Then, Buffy stood on her tiptoes to reach his mouth and kiss him once again.

Spike, you must wake. Find the new Slayer, Buffy's voice murmured in his head. Then, before Spike could respond, he felt himself being pulled out of the dream.

~~~

Spike awoke in his bed with a jolt. "Bloody hell," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes. That dream had felt so vivid and realistic, so different than the numerous dreams he had of his slayer.

"Find the new Slayer?" he whispered to himself as he rubbed his eyes. "Why?" He didn't know whether the dream was from his overactive imagination or...perhaps Buffy was actually trying to contact him. He quickly shook that thought out of his head. If Buffy had wanted to contact him, she would have done it much earlier, like around the time where when he had come close to killing himself.

Demons in the underground were calling the current slayer the next Buffy Summers. She'd been called at age sixteen and was already nearing her twenty-first birthday, making her one of only three slayers to have lived this that long. 

The current slayer was said to have the exact same qualities of Buffy Summers, the legendary slayer who had died three times, had two vampire lovers, and left a legacy for all future slayers. She fought in a style that no one had ever seen before, able to outsmart demons with her witty puns and fast roundhouse kicks. She had saved the world countless times and somehow managed to lead a life at school and with her friends. She had an untamed Watcher, and her friends bravely fought at her side. For those reasons, Spike had refused to see her. 

He didn't want to risk bringing back all the memories that he had of Buffy. Next month would mark the 100th-year anniversary of her death, and her death was entirely his fault.

~~~

TBC...


	2. Chapter 1

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Regaining Memories -- Part 1

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

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Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone!

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On the evening of February 14, 2004, Tara, Willow, Xander, and Anya were out at the Bronze for their annual Valentine's Day Party. Even Dawn was out with her friends dancing at the Bronze. Dawn planned to sleep over at a friend's house that night after the party where she would get to gossip about boys and have a little bit of fun. Because of this, Buffy was at home by herself with her only plan to eventually go patrolling.

The doorbell rang, and as Buffy walked up it, she wondered who would be visiting her at this time of night when everyone that she knew was out having fun. She opened the door and saw Spike standing on her welcome mat. 

Ever since they had broken up for the final time, Spike and Buffy had slowly formed a tentative friendship, trying to hold together a relationship like they had before Buffy kissed him for the first time that night in the alley. It had taken time and hard work on both sides, but at least on the outside, it seemed to be working. As long as Spike never brought up their secret past, Buffy never fought against seeing him. 

"Spike, hey," she greeted with a small smile of her face. "What are you doing here?"

Spike paused, taking a second to glance at the woman he loved. Yes, he still loved her in every possible way. After their final break up, Spike had fought to keep some type of relationship to with the slayer, thinking up every possible way that he would at least be able to *see* her even if he wasn't allowed to touch her. If patrolling and babysitting Dawn were his only chances of interacting with Buffy, he would take it them. At least, she was finally happy, that was all he wanted -- was for her to be happy. "Well, I thought we could go patrolling, love," Spike said. 

"Oh, good.…I was planning on doing that soon anyway," Buffy remarked. "Why don't you come inside and let me grab some stakes?" 

Spike took a few steps inside holding something behind his back as Buffy walked over to the living room and opened the chest. She pulled out a couple of stakes and stuffed them into her pockets before coming back up to Spike. "Okay, ready?"

"Uh...Buffy," Spike started. 

"Yeah?" 

Spike pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back. "Uh, I got these for you for, y'know, Valentine's Day." Spike stammered.

"Spike...thank you," Buffy said as she took the flowers out of his hands and smelled them. She breathed in the scent of lilies and lilacs mixed with baby's breath and carnations. "You...you didn't have to do this," she added. Uh oh, here we go again...drifting past the "friendship" line.

"Well, I figured that it'd be better than anything that I...that I did to you in the last couple of years," Spike said as he remembered the night where he chained her up, forcing her to listen to his words of love.

"Well...things were different then." Buffy commented. Two years ago, she didn't know of his feelings for her, and she hadn't figured out her feelings for him. Then, last year, she had simply abused his feelings for her just so she could have some simple "feelings." Yes, things were definitely different now. "Thank you," Buffy said, smiling. Before she could chicken out, she moved forward and kissed Spike's cheek.Damn, definitely crossed that line, Buffy thought.

"Wow, uh, you're welcome, love," Spike said, amazed at the affection she had shown him. He hadn't been expecting that. Spike was surprised that she even dared to kiss him again after what that had led to last time. But things were different… that much Spike knew. Since Buffy was finally happy about being back on earth, maybe things wouldn't turn out badly.

She smiled, upon seeing the love in his eyes that he was trying to hide from her. "Let me go put these in some water." She walked into the kitchen with the flowers in her hands and came back out a second later. "Okay, are we ready now?" Buffy asked.

"I was born ready," Spike proudly stated.

Buffy rolled her eyes; yet, she wasn't annoyed. Secretly, she hadn't been annoyed by Spike in a long time -- at least several months, which had to be the longest time ever. "C'mon, Big Bad, let's go patrol," Buffy said. Together, the two of them walked out into the night.

~~~

"Well, I'm sorry I bugged you so much about coming to patrol with me," Spike said. It was about two hours later, and there had been absolutely nothing in the graveyards. Apparently, even demons celebrated Valentine's Day. Maybe they were all dancing with their honeys at the Bronze.

Buffy and Spike headed back to her home, signaling that the night was over. "Well, it's okay," Buffy said as she stepped onto her porch. "It's not like I had anything else really planned to do tonight." In secret, Buffy had planned to lie around on the couch with a tub of ice cream in her lap and sob over the Valentine's Day movie-fest. Buffy unlocked her door and turned back around to face Spike. "Thanks again for the flowers, Spike. I love them."

"You're welcome," Spike said, starting to walk off the porch.

"Oh, but wait," Buffy said as she stopped Spike. "I didn't get anything for you."

"That's okay, love," Spike said, speaking truthfully. She'd kissed him on the cheek and said thank you for the flowers two or three times. It wasn't much, but for Spike at least, it was a start. It was a crumb, and that was all he wanted. And hopefully this time, it would be a start in the right direction.

"Oh well, I guess this will have to do," Buffy murmured. And with that, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. She pressed her warm body into his cooler one, dragging her hands down his arms before latching onto the sides of his leather jacket. Spike mimicked her motions as the two kissed in the dark. They hadn't kissed in over a year -- almost two; yet, neither had forgotten how to act and react.

Buffy slowly pulled back and looked at him. "Wow, uh...," Spike stuttered.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Spike," Buffy said under her breath, turning and walking into the house. 

"Best present ever, love," Spike whispered into the air around him. 

~~~

As Buffy made her way to the graveyard where Spike's crypt was, she hummed a song in her head. It had been almost a month since Valentine's Day and that night when she kissed him. And it was all because of that gentle, chaste kiss, that Buffy knew that once again they had crossed that inevitable line.

From there, their relationship progressed into a light and innocent coupling. Never had Buffy and Spike been in a more chaste relationship, but since neither of the two wanted to ruin their chance, both agreed to take things slow. However, tonight she planned to tell him that her extreme like/hate for the bleached-blonde vampire had turned into a deep love and longing. She had it all planned out, and hopefully, her babbling wouldn't ruin the moment. 

She neared his crypt and immediately saw Spike leaning against a headstone waiting for her. "'Ello, love," Spike greeted her.

"Hey, Spike." She walked up right into his arms and kissed him quickly on the lips. 

"So, what's the plan, love?" Spike asked. 

"I figured a quick patrol. Maybe we can head back to my house and spend some time together...Dawn won't be there, and we'll have the house to ourselves." Buffy said, hoping she could get her point across. 

"That sounds mighty fine to me," Spike agreed.

"Good," Buffy said, still holding onto Spike's hand. The two started walking out thorough the graveyard, keeping their eyes open for anything. 

Almost an hour passed, and there was no sign of anything in the graveyard that Buffy and Spike were patrolling in. "There's nothing here, love," Spike announced. "Do you want to head on home?"

"Let's go check Restfield Cemetery quickly," Buffy suggested. Although she just wanted to go home with Spike, she wanted to make sure that there weren't any vampires that were planning a surprise attack. 

"Sure thing, love," Spike said, falling into step with the Slayer as they crossed the street. 

They walked down several blocks of the town. When they neared the cemetery, Buffy and Spike saw some vampires that were walking around in the cemetery. There must have been a nest near by because there were about ten of them.

"Looks like we're going to wind up getting some action tonight after all," Spike commented, pulling out a stake. 

"Damn," Buffy agreed, starting to pick up her pace. "And here I was, thinking we were home free for the night."

Buffy ran into the fight, jumping up into the air and leaping over one of the headstones. She swiftly moved up to a vampire and punched him in the face before swinging around and kicking him in his side. Before she could retaliate with another punch, four other vampires slammed into her body and knocked her onto the ground.

Spike followed Buffy's entrance, picking a fight with the remaining vampires to keep Buffy from getting too overloaded. As Spike was working on the other five vampires, the number quickly fell to four. Spike swung around and grabbed one of the vampires by the shirt. 

"Man, you're crazy! Killing your own kind," the vampire yelled into Spike's face. 

"Yeah, yeah. Sing me a new one," Spike said, driving the stake home. "Well, that isn't so bad, is it kiddies?" Spike asked the remaining vampires. Then, he noticed that Buffy wasn't fighting right beside him. "Buffy?" He quickly glanced around the cemetery, giving the four vampires a chance to retaliate.

One vampire with a scar across its cheek and another vampire with long brown hair grabbed onto Spike's arms, holding him tightly. Spike fought to free himself, but couldn't move his arms. "Hey! Let me go!" He shouted, moving his body around to free himself. 

"Spike!" Buffy cried out from the other side of the cemetery, ducking from a thrown punch. 

While Spike was fighting the other vampires, Buffy had quicl;y staked three, but the other two were amazingly strong. The two remaining vampires that were attacking Buffy had somehow gotten the upper hand of the battle. They'd forced her to run to the other side of the cemetery and placed her in a tightly- enclosed area. 

"SPIKE!" She shrieked again as a vampire tossed her to the ground. 

"Buffy?" Spike asked, still unable to move. 

A second later, two vampires carried the slayer, who was violently kicking her legs in the air to get free, from behind a crypt. They let go of her and shoved her against the wall of the crypt. Buffy slowly regained her senses and reached in her back pocket to pull out a stake. She raised it in the air, aiming for the vampire that stood in front of her. Suddenly, the vampire that was beside her grabbed onto her arm as she raised it, quickly spinning her around into his arms. Controlling her own stake with his hand, the vampire plunged the stake into Buffy's chest. Buffy's eyes went wide with shock and pain. "Oh....oh God," she moaned, looking down at her chest. 

"NO!" Spike screamed. His body went wild, thrashing around and trying to free himself. "Buffy!" He struggled for a second more, finally becoming free before he ran over to Buffy and the two vampires. He threw himself at one with his stake held out in front of him and quickly dusted the vampire that was holding the stake. 

The remaining vampire released his grip on Buffy as he stared at Spike. "You're pathetic, protecting the Slayer," he said. And with that, he ran disappeared into the shadows of the graveyard.

Spike dropped the stake he was holding and ran over to Buffy's side. He bent down on his knees and cradled her head. "Oh God," he muttered, running his other hand down across her chest. The vampire had staked her heart….God, he had killed her.

"Spike...I- I slipped up," Buffy stammered.

"It's okay, love. It's okay," Spike said, trying not to look too worried. His hand brushed over her chest and was covered in blood when he pulled away. 

"Spike...don't let- let them bring me...back," she said. "Please."

"Okay, Buffy," Spike said softly. He gazed down at her and smiled while he lightly trailed his fingers over her forehead. 

"Ma-maybe stakes aren't the...the best way to kill..." Buffy gasped. "They always seem...always backfire on me."

Spike felt the corners of his mouth smile lift slightly. "It'll all be okay," he said, trying to soothe her. Tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to cry in front of her. 

"Spike...I- I love..." 

Spike watched as the fire and light died out of her eyes and as her body spasmed before going limp. Spike fell back, moving away from her and not believing that he had witnessed her death two times… Each time had been his fault. If only he'd been quicker, faster...more helpful than he had been, she'd still be alive.

"No...no...," Spike chanted. "BUFFY!" 

He had lost her. When everything had been going *so* perfectly, he'd lost her, his sunshine in his dark world. And when that fire burned out of her eyes, he also knew that it had disappeared from his. She was lost to him, and she'd never be found again. 

~~~

Spike closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. One dream and every memory that he'd ever shared with Buffy was suddenly rushing back to him in full force. So, Buffy wants me to find the slayer, he thought to himself. Guess, I don't have a choice. 

He climbed out of bed and grabbed a bag, throwing a couple of shirts and other materials into the sack. One hundred years had changed everything around him, but Spike's style was still the same...the same black, leather jacket and an unusually dark dress style. Cars were rare these days, but Spike still used one. The vehicle wasn't the DeSoto, but it would do for his needs. 

Once packed and ready to go, he walked out into the night and headed towards his car. Once inside, he turned on the gas and started driving towards Sunnydale, California, the home of the current Slayer. 

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TBC.....


	3. Chapter 2

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Once again, thanks for all the comments! On ff.net and in my inbox, they are all appreciated. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic, please keep letting me know what you think of the story.

Regaining Memories -- Part 2

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

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I don't know if I can do this, Spike thought to himself.

He was standing outside the Bronze, now called the Golden Stake, trying to work up enough courage to enter. People swept past him, shoving him back and forth as they moved inside or outside the club. It had been almost one hundred years since he'd been in this town and stood this close to all of those memories that he'd kept locked up in the depths of his mind. 

Spike closed his eyes, taking a deep, yet unnecessary breath. Already, he could envision Buffy and himself sitting in the Bronze, arguing about everything. He could picture Dawn perched on a stool, her head bobbing to the beat of the music. Anya and Xander would be out on the dance floor while Tara and Willow talked back and forth about things that only they understood, their conversation filled with giggles and smiles. Yes, those were the good times and the days when Buffy's gang accepted him. 

"Bloody hell," he cursed. "Here goes nothing."

He took a step inside the club and was almost blown away by the feeling that he got. Yes, the slayer was inside the club somewhere. He was almost forced to take several steps away from the doorway… from the strong presence that he sensed somewhere inside the club.

As Spike made his way past people and toward the dance floor, he was instantly reminded of that night in the Bronze when he saw a young blonde dancing on the floor with her friends, Xander and Willow. That was the first night that he'd ever seen Buffy, and he was bent on killing her. 

It was only when he reached the dance floor that he realized that he wasn't imagining the scene where he had first seen Buffy Summers. "Bloody hell," he cursed underneath his breath. In the middle of the dance floor stood the Slayer. She was dancing in the center of a small circle, laughing and joking with her friends. 

She was...

"Buffy," Spike gasped. If his heart had actually been beating, it would have stopped the moment he saw her.

The current slayer looked just like Buffy Summers.

"No," Spike said to himself as he started to turn around. "I can't do this. I can't talk to a person who looks just like Buffy, I can't." He started making his way out of the club. Once outside and in the alley where the Bronze was located, he hurried to his car. "I knew that this was a stupid idea," he mumbled. "I should have never come back to this bloody town."

"Hey you!"

Spike froze, his eyes widening. That voice. God, it's Buffy, That tone of annoyance was a tone that only she possessed. Spike slowly turned around to look at her, knowing that he had no choice. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, when he saw her. 

"Haven't I given you guys enough warning?" she asked. "Time and time again, I tell you not to come to the club! That's my territory." She took a step towards him, beginning to raise the stake in her hand. "You vamps never learn, do you?"

Behind the Buffy-look-alike stood two other people, a redheaded girl and a tall, brown-haired boy. "Need any help, Anne?" the boy questioned.

"No thanks, Alex, this shouldn't take long," Anne replied. She looked Spike over and took notice of his black leather duster and dark outfit before saying, "God, do you scream 1990s or what?" She'd never seen this vampire before; most these days were fledglings that wouldn't make it past their 100th birthday, but this vampire seemed older. Maybe it was a feeling inside of her, but she knew that this vampire had history.

Bloody hell, this is the damn Scooby gang, Spike thought. "There's been a misunderstanding, love," Spike said confidently, finally finding his voice. 

Anne's face flashed with an expression of confusion. That voice...it was British; she could recognize its similarity to her Watcher's. But she'd heard that voice somewhere else before; she was sure of that. "Right, because I'm sure that you vampires always get turned around and *that's* why you show up here uninvited."

"I'm here to help you!"

"You're a vampire!" she shot back at him. "Let me clear this up for you. We're mortal enemies. We don't get time-outs to help each other."

Spike opened his mouth, the words not coming out. Not like I haven't ever heard that before, Spike thought, recalling the night when he'd formed an alliance with Buffy in order to bring Angelus down. "Look, love," Spike started again. "I...I was sent-"

"By who? The Powers That Be? Sorry, but you're no Angel."

"Angel?" Spike questioned. "That poofer is still alive?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Anne asked, now confused by what Spike was saying. However, her assumptions were true; this vamp definitely had some age on him. 

"Angel, the vampire with a soul..." Spike started.

"No, that was before my time," Anne replied quickly. She tried to direct the conversation back towards business. "Who are you?"

"The name is Spike."

"Wait....Spike? As in...*the* Spike?" she asked.

"The one and only, love." Spike replied, trying to keep a deadpan expression on his face. The whole scene was like being transported one hundred years back in time, and he was having a conversation with Buffy all over again. "And you are...?"

"Anne Winters," she said matter-of-factly.

Spike closed his eyes, cursing the Powers for a second. "Well, aside from the whole threat thing, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled at Spike before she turned toward her friends. "It's okay guys; he's on our side...somewhat." Anne glanced back, informing him," My watcher has talked about you. He says that you killed two slayers and then fell, head over heels, in love with one." Spike lowered his face, his eyes filling with shame. "God, it's true, isn't it? I...I didn't believe it because I didn't think that vampires could love. I just thought that it was some myth about you, that's just-"

"Are you just going to stand here and babble all night long, love?" Spike asked, unable to take hearing her babbles much longer. Something else that Buffy often did, Spike thought.

"Oh, sorry, I have a tendency to do that," Anne explained. "Anyway, this is Wilona, and this is Alex."

"Nice, you've got yourself a Scooby gang, too."

"Too? What's a Scooby gang?"

"Listen, I'm in town for a while. I'd like to talk with your watcher and then maybe help you train," Spike explained. 

"Train? For what?"

"The fight of your life, love."

~~~

"So...what do we know?" A deep voice called out. "Has it started?"

"We think so, sir," a tall man replied. "We should be getting a-"

"We've got a source now," another replied. A man dressed in a business outfit walked through a short hallway and into the main room. A group of elderly men was sitting around a table, the obvious leader positioned at the end of the table.

"And what did this source say, Eric?" the man who was sitting at the end of the table asked. The man talking was the great-grandson of the infamous Quentin Travers. From his grandfather to his father, and now to him, Quincey had been brought up through the strict training of the Watchers Council. Now he was the leader, and he too knew what would happen if this prophecy came true. 

"They say that it's started. Mr. Travers, the prophecy has started," Eric explained, looking at Quincey.

"Damn," Quincey Travers said. He scratched his forehead and sighed. "That means that everything has been set in motion. Dammit!"

"So what do we do, Mr. Travers?" one of the men present at the tables asked.

"What else *can* we do?" Quincey asked, his voice resigned. "We stop it."

~~~

Wilona and Alex had gone home before Anne took Spike to her watcher's house. Anne knew that her watcher would love to talk with Spike. Andrew Kenyon, her watcher, would probably ask him a million questions before he let Spike leave his apartment. 

As they made their way over to her watcher's home, Anne tried to talk with Spike. "So...," she began, "who was the slayer that you...well, y'know?"

"You mean that you don't know?" Spike asked, surprise evident in his tone. "I figured that everyone would have told you all that stuff."

"No, I'm pretty much in the dark about things like that," Anne said. "I don't really mind. I just...fight the evil that he tells me to."

"He?"

"Andrew, my watcher," she replied. "He's easy to get along with, but sometimes he just refuses to answer my questions. I tried talking to him about Buffy Summers once, but he refused to tell me anything about her."

Spike's suspicions were correct then. He could tell that this slayer knew nothing about Buffy. However, Anne's watcher must have had reasons as to why he never spoke of her. "Yeah...well, that slayer was...unique," he managed to say.

"Did you know her?" Anne asked him. She looked over at him and noticed that his eyes were lowered to the ground; he didn't answer her question. "Oh look, we're here," she said a few steps later. She slid her key-card through the slot and walked through the main gate. "Oh boy, Andrew is going to love this," she muttered. 

"You on a first name basis with your watcher?" Spike wondered.

"Of course...aren't they all?" Anne questioned, confusion in her expression and tone of voice.

"Not all of them," Spike murmured underneath his breath. He closed his eyes and for one, brief instant could almost hear Buffy yelling her watcher's name at the top of her lungs.

The front door opened, and a tall, brown-haired man stepped out through the doorway. He looked as though he was in his late twenties or early thirties; nonetheless, he wore a pair of glasses on his nose and dressed in a simple, but formal outfit. Well, watchers haven't changed that much in one hundred years, Spike thought to himself.

"Anne!" he greeted happily. "Nice of you to drop by before midnight for a change." 

"Thanks, Andrew," she replied. "Andrew Kenyon, I want you to meet Spike."

"Ahh, went out and got yourself a boyfriend?"

Anne blushed and tried to hide her smile. "No! This is Spike...*the* Spike! You know...the whole, killer of two slayers and so on. C'mon, I know we talked about this; I was actually listening that day."

"Oh...Oh!" Andrew said, taking off his glasses and looking at the bleached-blonde vampire that stood a few inches behind Anne. "How...well, it's an honor to meet you."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is," Spike said sarcastically. 

"It's not too often that you see a vampire who has lived over two hundred, much less three," Andrew said. "Uh...won't you please come in?"

Spike stared and looked at him in shock. "You're just going to invite me in?"

"Well...I know all about you Spike, I figure that I can trust you," Andrew replied, stepping aside and allowing Spike to pass. "So, what brings you back to Sunnydale?" he asked as he and Spike walked into the living room.

"Back?" Anne questioned. She stood in the doorway, but she took a step closer when Andrew began talking to Spike.

The two men chose to ignore Anne's question. "Look, mate...I was...well, I guess you could say that I was sent."

"Sent? By who?" Andrew asked, sitting down to look at the vampire. Andrew knew all about Spike from reading Rupert Giles' journals about Buffy Summers. Hell, every watcher after Buffy had mentioned something about her, wishing that their slayer could live up to what Buffy had done. Yes, he knew all about all the rumors that Anne was the reincarnation of Buffy; he just didn't want to believe them. Now with Spike, Buffy's vampire lover here, Andrew might have to change his mind.

Spike looked up at Anne, not wanting to speak about Buffy in front of her. 

"Oh, I guess that this is...manly business talk," Anne said, realizing that she was not wanted for this meeting. "I'll, uh, just go upstairs and change out of my party clothes." She turned around and closed the door behind her, leaving Spike and Andrew to themselves.

"I...I was sent by...Buffy," Spike revealed, lowering his voice in case Anne decided to listen in on the other side of the door.

"Buffy? But she's...well, she's-"

"Yeah, she's...dead, I know that," Spike said. "But, this felt so real. She said that I had to go see the slayer, Anne. I...I didn't know that she would look ju-just like her. She sounds...she sounds just like her, too."

"Yes, the Watcher's Council is aware of this," Andrew spoke. "Although I'm not too fond of the Council, I finally talked them into looking into reasons why Anne is...well, she's Buffy. Maybe it was just your subconscious telling you that-"

"Look, I know a message when I see one. This was from Buffy. She said that something big was coming up and that I needed to see the current slayer," Spike stated. "I didn't want to come here to this town; you think I did? There are just too many memories here, and..." his voice died off. "I take it that she doesn't know anything about this? She even said that she was in the dark about the whole Buffy situation."

"No...no, I don't tell her about Buffy's past. She doesn't even know that you were...with Buffy. I know what happened between you. I studied some on it while I was in training, but-"

"There's no way that you could know what happened between us, Watcher," Spike said gruffly, coldness in his eyes.

"Fine, fine. Look, all I'm saying is that...she can't know. Something bad could happen if she were to find out everything, okay?" Andrew asked him. "I don't know what her reaction would be to all of this."

Spike nodded, agreeing to not speak with Anne about Buffy. "Look, I don't know what's coming, if *anything*, but if something does come, it won't be good. Being on the hellmouth is never good."

"And what do you propose that we do about that?" Andrew asked 

"Well, I can help her train. Not that you aren't great with training a powerful slayer or anything, mate, but I think that I'm better qualified for the job," Spike said. "And you...you and the Scooby gang can research any upcoming prophecies or what all."

"Scooby gang? What's a Scooby gang?"

"You know...Red and the whelp. They can help you," Spike informed him. 

"Whelp?" Andrew asked, confusion in his tone. "Ahh...Alex," Andrew said, shaking his head in the air but his face still showing confusion. "Anyway, it's late...well, for me it is, and I should be off to bed." He rose from the couch and started to step away from the seat. 

"Right...uh, does Anne need to get home or anything?" Spike asked. 

"No, she lives two floors up," Andrew explained. "She's in her own little apartment. Her mother died a year ago, and she's been by herself ever since then. It's just remarkable how well she can handle herself."

"What'd her mother die of?" Spike queried.

"Cancer. It really was a sad situation, but she seems to have recovered quite nicely," Andrew replied. 

"Well then, tell the little chit good night for me, uh?" Spike said, moving towards the door. "I can get back over here after sunset tomorrow…maybe find a place to start training with her."

"Oh, we have a gym downstairs, a good place for her sparring."

"Good, then," Spike acknowledged. "G'night, mate." He opened the front door and walked out, closing it behind him. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, feeling a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. That was bloody tough, he mused. I'm living in deja vu world. He liked the watcher. For some reason, Andrew reminded Spike of Giles. Maybe it was just his stiff, English ways, but he was inwardly glad that Anne had such a relaxed and modern watcher. 

Anne.

Bloody hell, she was Buffy. There was no mistaking that the girl three floors up in the house behind him was Buffy Summers; Spike knew that to be fact. Bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into? he asked himself. 

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	4. Chapter 3

****

Once again, thank you for all the feedback and reviews left at ff.net. I'm glad that you are enjoying the ride, and continue to enjoy it as I keep posting. Thanks!

Regaining Memories -- Part 3

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

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True to his word, Spike showed up the next night to help Anne train. He waited outside of Anne's apartment on the fourth floor while Anne changed into some decent workout clothes. When Anne walked through the doorway, Spike fought to keep his mouth from falling open. 

There she was, the perfect embodiment of Buffy Summers. Dressed in a white tank top, gray sweat pants, and her hair pulled back in a slightly messy ponytail, Anne went through the doorway and smiled as she approached Spike. 

"Hey," she greeted.

"Uh...hi," Spike replied. 

"Andrew isn't here, but he said that we could work out in the gym. No one else is supposed to be there tonight, so we can have some privacy," Anne explained, starting out of the apartment. Spike followed her closely since he didn't know where the gym was. "So, did you help your slayer train, also?"

"Not really, love," Spike stated. "I, uh, had this stupid thing in my head that prevented me from hitting humans."

"Oh, is that why you helped her, then?"

Spike didn't know what to say without giving out too much information. "I don't think you really have to worry about that, pet. The chip doesn't work anymore, but I still help out. Trust me, it wasn't the chip," he said gruffly. It was love, my love for Buffy.

"Oh, touchy subject I guess," Anne replied, not wanting to bother him with too many questions. She led Spike down another hallway towards a closed door. "Okay, we're here." she said as she opened the door and crossed the threshold.

Spike shrugged off his black leather jacket and stood in front of her. "Okay, ready, love?" he asked.

"Pfft, of course I'm ready," Anne commented. "I'm ready to kick your ass." With that, the two started fighting.

~~~

"So...dish, girlfriend!" Wilona squealed when Anne showed up at the Golden Stake a few nights after Spike and Anne had started to spar. "What's he like? Details!"

"Wil, he's just helping me train," Anne maintained, sitting down at a table with Alex and Wilona. "We've been going at it for like six days, and I think I'm actually improving. He sorta showed me just how bad Andrew was teaching me."

"Well, that's good right?" Wilona asked. "Not to mention that you get to spend time with this totally hot guy."

"Will! He's a vampire!" Anne emphasized. 

"Like that ever stopped her before," Alex commented wryly. "C'mon, Anne, let's dish about your new guy," he insisted, imitating a perky, happy blonde.

Anne broke into a grin and laughed. "Anyway, there was only that one slayer that he was with several decades ago from what I've picked up on, and I doubt that he'd ever try to hook up with one again."

"Ah hah! So you *have* thought about it," Wilona said enthusiastically. 

"Well, he's not as great as you think, Wilona...trust me."

"Why not?"

"He's *so* annoying! Spike thinks he knows everything. He'll talk to me and act completely normal, but then, when I try to ask questions about the slayer that he fell in love with, he refuses to answer me," Anne explained.

"Well, maybe that's just a topic that he can't talk about," Wilona said. "It must be tough for him to-"

"And then when we're fighting! He is always criticizing my technique. 'Oh, love, your right side is clear open for all the little nasties,' or something like that," Anne said in a horrible English accent. "It drives me insane. And he's just so...vibey. I get these crazy vibes from him."

"Well..." started Wilona, unsure of what to say after her friend's ramble.

"And can we say 'control freak' here? He thinks that he is just...*so* overqualified to help me out with the training. He thinks that this is just a job; I'm surprised that he doesn't ask to get paid to help me spar," Anne said, her face getting hot with anger. "He's just so serious *all* of the time."

"Well...maybe he does that unintentionally," Wilona suggested, always wanting to keep the conversations calm and non-judgmental. 

"Look, I'm going to get some coke or something. You guys want anything to drink?" Anne asked, rushing to her feet. Both of her friends shook their heads "no" before Anne told them, "I'll be back."

"Well?" Wilona asked Alex once Buffy was gone.

"Good God, I've never heard Anne talk that much about one guy since I've known her," he observed. "Think she likes him?"

"Oh yeah, there's definite like-age," Willow said. "Too bad that he's a vampire."

~~~

"No, love...you're dodging too soon," Spike told Anne as he took a step back from her. "You're leaving your left side wide open for nasties."

Anne took a deep breath, trying to not reveal her anger in a single outburst. "Look, I haven't exactly had this kind of training with Andrew, okay?"

"Well, I don't see how you've lasted as long as you have," Spike asserted. He swung his arm out, and Anne easily dodged it, tumbling into a somersault and landing behind him. She lashed out and kicked him to the floor, sending him sliding on the mat.

"I can handle myself just fine," she retorted, rising to her feet and standing in a fighting stance. 

Spike copied her motions and ran back up to her, picking her small body up off the floor and flipping her over his back. "Yeah, I can see that," he replied sarcastically. "You're doing just fine."

She looked up at him with a glare in her eyes. "Oh shut up," she said, before standing up once again. "Break time."

"What? Tired already?" he asked, following her. 

Anne walked over to the edge of the room and grabbed a bottle of water. "Tired? Puh-leese. It just looked like you needed a break." Why do I argue with him so easily? What provokes me to have this constant banter with him? she thought to herself. She'd never argued with Andrew or her friends this much. 

Spike did a double take. It was as though he was transported one hundred years into the past, in the Magic Box, where he and Buffy would train together. Damnit, it's like I'm talking to *her*, he thought to himself. He glanced over the blonde woman as she drank her water and wiped her forehead. "Y'know something? You're a skinny little chit," he commented, walking up to her. Buffy had always been skinny; something that Spike constantly teased her about.

Anne whirled around and stared at him, "I am *not*...what's a chit?"

Spike smirked. "I mean, do you eat anything? You're just all bones."

"I'm not skinny, I'm fit," Anne replied defensively. 

Spike moved closer to her, saying, "I bet that I could touch my fingertips from either side of your waist." What? What the bloody hell am I saying? He approached Anne and laid his hands on her bare waist.

Anne fought the urge to jump back. Not because he was a vampire, even though that should have been her first concern, but because he was so cold. She was burning up, and the feeling of Spike's cold hands on her hot skin was comforting. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her frantically beating heart. "See?" She managed to say. "No -- not skinny."

"Hmm, I guess not," Spike said, gazing down at her. He took a breath, although unnecessary, and looked down at his hands. "Anne..."

"Yes?" she asked, peering up at him. 

Suddenly, Spike stepped back, pushing her body away from him. He dropped his hands to his side and lowered his face to the floor as he kept backing up from her. "So -- sorry love," he muttered. What the hell was that, mate? he asked himself. She's not Buffy! You can't go around thinking that she's *your* slayer anymore.

Anne froze, never expecting that to happen. He...he doesn't want me, she thought to herself. Well...good! He's a vampire, Anne! Get that through your thick skull! She stood there a second, trying to compose her emotions. Anne took a sip of water and wiped her sweaty forehead, trying to play their moment as if she'd already forgotten it. "Anyway, up for a second go?"

"Always, love," Spike said, grinning at her, his usual attitude having resumed.

A light layer of perspiration had covered her body from the intense workout with Spike. Anne took a towel and wiped her face, neck, and arms, and she quickly tossed the towel out of her way. Her blood was pounding in her ears from the activity. "Okay, Big Bad, give me everything that you've got."

~~~


	5. Chapter 4

****

Thank you for all the kind words on the last part, I'm glad everyone is enjoying the story. 

Regaining Memories -- Part 4

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

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That's weird, I don't usually get too many visitors that actually knock, Spike thought to himself as he walked up to the front door of his small apartment. He opened the door and greeted the visitor. "Hello Anne," he said.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"I, uh...I figured that we could have a small chat," Anne suggested.

"Okay...*how'd* you get here?" Spike asked. He had never given Anne or Andrew his address.

"Oh, I just beat up some demons to get your address," she said proudly.

"Oh, great."

"Anyway, I know that Andrew wants all of us at his place tomorrow evening for a meeting, but..." Okay, how do I tell this to him? she thought. "Do you want to step outside with me?"

"Sure," Spike said, walking through the doorway and closing the door behind him. 

"Anyway, I had this whole speech planned out. I was going to amaze you with my rationality and my use of really big words. I was going to sound really professional because I didn't want to take a chance of babbling off topic for a really long time, and-"

"Uh, a little too late for that," Spike said, smiling over at her. 

"Right...okay, here goes." she took a deep breath before continuing. "Why do you hate me?" Well, so much for the big words usage, she told herself. 

"Hate you? I don't hate you," Spike said with surprise in his voice. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well you work me to no end for one thing," Anne started. "You know almost everything there is to know about me, and yet I know nothing about you. I try to talk to you, but you shut me out whenever I try to get a conversation started. I mean, you aren't Angel, but at least, he would *talk* about Faith and his girlfriend, Cordelia."

"Wait, I thought you said that he-"

"Yeah, I lied to you about that," Anne said. "I didn't want to reveal that he and I knew each other at the time."

"Romantic with each other?" Spike asked, dreading the possible answer.

"Well, not really. He still had those feelings for Cordelia that he didn't want to ruin. I think that he was with her up to the end...well, her end anyway. We kissed a few times but that was as far as it got before he died," she said regrettably. "I don't understand it, but there seemed to be something that was just pulling me towards him." Just like I'm pulled towards you, Anne thought.

So, the poufter took a go at trying to get Buffy to love him again, Spike reflected. "Well, that nancy boy has some history of his own, too. After all, he was older than me by at least one hundred years or so," he said, trying not to disrespect the memories Anne had of Angel...even though it was really tempting.

"I mean, I must totally disgust all men, including vampires!" she said angrily. "First, Angel, and now you!" Whoops, didn't mean to just blurt that out, Anne thought guiltily. Tact, Anne! Learn it!

"Me?" Spike said, even more surprised. He wasn't really expecting that. 

"I remember that night in the gym. You just...Spike, you just shoved me away as if I was diseased or something," Anne said, hurt evident in her tone. "You looked as though you were going to...and then you just backed away."

I don't want to relive my past, Spike thought. "My past is somewhat...troubled."

"Is that why you won't kiss me?" Anne asked. 

"Kiss you? Love, what happened to the whole 'kill the vampire; don't have feelings for him' motto?" Spike asked. 

"Oh, you mean that was taken seriously when your slayer...ohh," Anne said, now understanding. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? It's all about your slayer, whoever she was."

"It's a little bit more than that," he noted. You look just like her; you sound just like her; you smile just like her, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to be truthful with Anne, but without knowing what would happen, Spike didn't want to speak. 

"Then, what? Why aren't you making a move?" Anne asked, throwing her hands up in the air. "I *want* you to, okay?"

"Anne..." Spike started.

"Spike, I just...I just need a sign from you that you'll-"

His arms reached out and pulled Anne into his embrace, pushing her face to meet his. Spike lowered her head and captured Anne's lips in the sweetest kiss she'd ever had in her life. Anne forced herself to not smile as she heard Spike growl somewhere in the back of his throat. 

Buffy..., Spike thought, imagining the two of them back in his crypt kissing on the floor, unable to wait to actually reach the bed. But she's not Buffy, is she? She's never going to be Buffy, no matter how badly you want her to be, mate, he tried to convince himself. "So, how was that for a sign?" Spike asked, pulling back and staring at her. 

Anne took a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. "It's a start," she replied. "I, uh, have to go patrol and then check back in with Andrew."

"Okay, Anne," Spike said, his accent thick and his voice gruff with desire. 

"I'll stop by tomorrow, and we can head over to Andrew's place, okay?" Spike nodded in response. "Well, good night, Spike."

"Actually, it's 'good morning' for me," Spike said teasingly. 

"Well then, good morning," Anne said, smiling coyly. Before he could protest, she pressed a warm kiss on his lips and turned to skip down the front steps. 

What have I gotten myself into? Spike asked himself. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Spike?" Anne called out, banging on his front door. "Spike, it's Anne!" Dusk hadn't quite arrived yet, but Anne decided to come over early, hoping that she'd get a chance to spend some alone time with Spike. 

She knocked on the door one last time, hoping to get him to answer the door. Fine, I'll just use to old 'break and enter' method, she mused, clasping the doorknob in her hand. She twisted the knob and broke through the lock, pushing the door open and stepping inside. 

Hmm, lives nice for a vampire, Anne thought, making her way through the living room. Anne passed a kitchen, bathroom, and closet before reaching the two final rooms, what she assumed were the bedrooms. Anne opened the door to her left and smiled when she saw Spike lying in a full-sized bed. He was wrapped in black satin sheets that had been pushed down to his lower waist, exposing his fit and muscular abs. 

Anne, no drooling now, she scolded herself. Anne's smile widened when she realized how human he looked…so much more than Angel did.

She silently closed the door behind her, deciding to let him sleep a few minutes longer. She walked back through the hallway and into the living room. Well, while I'm waiting...

Anne walked over to Spike's closet and opened the double doors. The closet was empty with the exception of a leather bag on the very top shelf. Anne pushed the bag aside to reveal a dusty, beaten up shoebox. Could be interesting, she told herself. Anne stood on her tiptoes and pulled the box down.

She pulled off the cover and started looking at the first layer of the box.

"They're photos...of me," she whispered to herself. Anne started taking the photos out one right after the other, noticing that they were all of her. She chuckled to herself, thinking, I didn't know that I had such a fan club.

Anne looked closer at the image of herself, frowning when she saw the disgusting shade of violet that she was wearing. Wait...I don't own anything violet. I don't own anything that even closely resembles that. Slowly, she turned the photo over and read what Spike had written. 

__

Buffy Anne Summers. 

1981-2004

What?! He was with *Buffy* *Summers*! *The* slayer! She turned the photo back around and gazed at the image. She's...she looks just like me! Anne thought wildly, not understanding what was going on. What was he...

"You know, breaking and entering is against the law, or at least it used to be," Spike said from behind her. 

"You!" Anne tried to speak as she stood up and spun around to face him.

Spike looked down at the floor where the open box lay, dozens of faded images scattered around the box, and then back up at Anne and the picture that she held in her trembling hand. "Anne..." he hesitated.

"You...you deceived me!"

"What? Love, I'd never do that to you!" Spike protested, taking a step towards her.

Anne backed away, her body shaking, and her face becoming red with anger. "I'm her! Spike, I look *exactly* like her!"

"Yeah, but-"

"Oh God," Anne said, a new thought coming to her mind. "You weren't kissing *me*; you were kissing *her* last night. You were touching *her* arm, helping *her* train, holding *her* hands."

"No, I wasn't!"

"Yes, you were. You weren't seeing me; you were seeing *Buffy* *Summers*, *your* slayer!" Anne shouted at him. 

With the photo still in her hand, Anne started towards the front door. She threw open the door and ran out into the night, leaving a stunned Spike standing in the hallway. 

~~~

"So you found out like *that*?" Wilona asked her in disbelief. When Anne had gotten back to her apartment, she'd called Wilona to come over for some serious comfort. She was so confused and didn't know what was happening. Even though Wilona would know less that she did, at least Wilona could offer her some moral support and her friendship. 

"Yeah, great way to find out, huh? I mean, he wasn't just with a slayer, Wil, he was with *the* slayer, Buffy," Anne said despairingly. "She's a legend; she's what every slayer dreams of achieving and becoming. And *he* was with her!"

"You know, I must say that the resemblance is...well, uncanny," Wilona said, looking at the picture that lay on the table in between them.

"I know, I look just like her," Anne stated. "Major wiggins, let me tell you that."

"Wiggins?" Wilona asked her, staring at Anne as if she had just spoken in pig Latin.

"Hmm...well, I knew what that word meant a second ago," Anne said thoughtfully. "I think it's just a weird feeling. Anyway, that's definitely what I got when I looked at this photo today."

"So...wait, I'm confused," Wilona said.

"Yeah, join the club."

"Are *you* Buffy Summers?" Wilona asked, glancing over at her best friend. 

Anne laughed at Wilona's remark. She paused. "Oh, you mean that you were serious?" Wilona gave her a look. "C'mon Wilona, I'm...Anne. You've known me since I moved here when I was sixteen. I wasn't just suddenly made up out of thin air!"

"I don't know, though. Couldn't it have been something like reincarnation?" Wilona speculated. 

Anne scoffed, refusing to believe any other possibilities. "Anyway, he came into the living room and tried to act as if everything was normal. I told him that he was using me to imagine that he was with Buffy again and then ran out of the house." She studied the photo, resisting the urge to turn it over, so she wouldn't have to see at it. "He didn't really try to fight back; he just...stood there."

"I'm telling you, men can be such assholes, dead or alive," Wilona said. "Trust me."

Anne smiled, glad that she had Wilona for a best friend. "Thanks, Wil."

Wilona grinned. "What are best friends for?" Then, her expression grew more serious. "You know, there *are* ways to find out what's going on here."

"Really? Well, fill me in."

"Andrew's journals," Wilona informed Anne. "I mean, doesn't he have to keep journals on how you've been slaying and so on?"

"You mean the Watcher Diaries?" Anne asked. Wilona nodded. "I don't know...we aren't really allowed to read those."

"Well, isn't Andrew out right now?" Wilona asked, a gleam sparkling in her eye.

"Yeah, he's out looking for this book....something called the Codex or something like that," Anne commented. "Wait, are you suggesting we go down there and check out his diaries while he's out?" Wilona's expression said it all. "Wil! You evil girl."

She winked. "Yep, I'm a rebel," she said happily.

"And I love it," Anne said, standing up. "C'mon."

~~~

"You got anything?" Anne asked Wilona. The two found Andrew's journals hidden beneath some papers inside one of his desk drawers. Luckily, they had been relatively easy to find. Now the two were searching through his books, hoping to find out some information about Spike and his relationship with Buffy and what Anne had to do with any of it.

"Nada," Wilona replied, turning another page. "You know, maybe Andrew doesn't have anything about Spike and Buffy in here."

Anne stopped reading one of his books. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Buffy had a watcher, right? If Andrew mentions him, we could see if he's got some other journals around here," Wilona suggested. 

"Wilona, I love you," Anne said admiringly. "You're a genius."

Wilona smiled. "Go on, please, go on." Wilona and Anne turned their attention back towards Andrew's journals, keeping an eye out for anything about Buffy's watcher. 

__

I don't know too much about this Spike fellow, and I don't trust him, Anne read in the journal. This was dated back when Spike first showed up in Sunnydale. _I mean, I've heard of Spike -- who hasn't? Every vampire fears him, every slayer that knows about him dreams of getting to fight along side him, and every watcher is amazed and stupefied by the acts of kindness that he carried out. The most amazing aspect of his altruistic behavior is that he did it all without a soul. Perhaps this is just what Anne needs, a good training partner, but something tells me it's more than that. _

I know that he and Buffy had a past together, but I can't let Anne find out about this. But with the two of them working in such close proximity, I don't know how I can prevent this from happening. I am hoping, however, that Giles' journals will give me more definitive answers.

"Ah hah!" Anne said excitedly. "I found something."

"What?"

"I think that her watcher's name was Giles," Anne said, flipping through a few more pages of the journal. "He says that Giles' journals should have more answers, but that's all he mentions about that."

"Giles?" Wilona asked. "Oh! *That* Giles." She moved towards the cabinet and took out an older looking journal that had tape over the binding and the edges of the book coming apart. "I think this was his then." She took the book and opened it to one of the pages that had a post-it note sticking out of the top of the journal. 

" 'I'm very worried. William the Bloody, Spike, has arrived in Sunnydale. Buffy first met him at the Bronze, and now he has terrorized the school,'" Wilona read. "What do you think the Bronze is? The Golden Stake?"

"Maybe," Anne replied, wanting to hear more from his journal.

"'He and Buffy fought, and thank god, she still lives. Spike has killed two slayers and is now looking for his third. Other than Angel's cryptic warnings about him, this is all we know of the vampire at this time,'" Wilona continued reading. "Wow, this was dated back in 1997. That's so long ago!"

Anne nodded, saying, "It was a little over one hundred years ago."

Wilona flipped through the pages, pausing for a second to peruse the pages that Andrew had marked for reference. "It's all in here, Anne," Wilona said. "A crash course in Spike 101."

"Do think Andrew would mind if I borrowed that?" Anne asked. "Or, let me rephrase that. Do you think that he'd notice?"

"Just take it; be brave," Wilona urged. She glanced down at her watch and groaned. "Man, it's getting late. I've got classes tomorrow; I'd better get home." She stood up and stretched. 

Anne rose beside Wilona , holding the book tightly in her hands. "I think I'll go upstairs and read this, then," she said as the two walked to Andrew's doorway. After the two said goodnight to each other and went their separate ways, Anne headed up the stairs to her apartment. 

"Okay," Anne said to herself. She was dressed in some warm pajamas and a long robe. With the book in her hands, Anne walked back to her bedroom and lay on the bed, opening the book to the next marked page. She skipped over most of the entries unless they mentioned something about Spike. Anne wanted to read Giles' entire journal, but she wanted to read the important things first. 

__

Goddamn Ethan Rayne. By invoking Janus, the Roman god, a spell was cast over the children out trick-or-treating, including Buffy. There was a fight between Spike and her. Luckily, I broke the spell, and Buffy managed to fend for herself once again.

  
*****

Spike came back to Sunnydale tonight. After months of hoping that he would not return, Spike arrived, searching for a way to get Drusilla to fall in love with him again. 

I do not know what happened. Since Buffy's return, she's barely spoken with me about anything that has to do with her slaying. However, I have been trying my best to keep the journal occasionally updated.

Anne read countless pages all talking about Spike. The dates progressed into 1999 and then 2000 when Giles started writing about Spike and the chip that the Initiative implanted into his brain. Anne stifled a laugh when she imagined him grabbing his head in pain after trying to hurt Buffy and then grimaced when she read about Willow's "I will it so" spell that went horribly wrong.

However, the more she read, the more confused she became. I have friends named Alexander and Wilona, she thought. I look just like her, I have her friends, and now I've got Spike in the picture. She continued reading, her thoughts becoming a jumbled mess. I don't understand how this can be happening.

Finally, when her eyes were cross-eyed from reading Giles' small and scratchy script, and her eyelids could barely stay open, Anne lay her head down on the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

~~~

TBC...

Reviews and welcomed and wanted. Please let me know what you think of the story so far!


	6. Chapter 5

****

Regaining Memories -- Part 5

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

****

Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone! Most of this part you'll recognize, but I had to put it in the story for it to all make sense.

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__

"Nice work, love," Spike said, walking out from behind the shadows. He was clapping his hands, and there was a smirk on his face.

"Who are you?" Anne asked him. Wait...this wasn't Anne; this had to be Buffy.

"You'll find out on Saturday."

"What happens on Saturday?" she asked him.

"I kill you."

*****

"Hello, cutie," Spike said, taking a step toward Buffy. She immediately decked him twice in the face. He grabbed her by the shoulders to restrain her, but she brought her knee up into his gut. "Now, you hold on a second!" He gave her a good shove away from himself. Buffy reached into her coat and pulled out a stake. Spike jumped back and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey! White flag here. I quit."

"Let me clear this up for you," she stated boldly. "We're mortal enemies. We don't get time-outs."

"You want to go a round, pet; I'll have a gay old time of it. You want to stop Angel... we're gonna have to play this a bit differently," he told her, lowering his arms. 

"What are you talking about?" she asked him.

"I'm talking about your ex, pet. I'm talking about putting him in the bloody ground," Spike explained.

Buffy started chuckling to herself, not believing what he was saying. "This has gotta be the *lamest* trick you guys have ever thought up!"

"He's got your Watcher. Right now, he's probably torturing him," Spike said.

"What do you want?"

"I told you. I want to stop Angel." He smirked. "I want to save the world."

"Okay. You do remember that you're a vampire, right?" she asked.

"We like to talk big. Vampires do," he clarified, patting his chest to say that he was one of those types of vampires. "'I'm going to destroy the world.' That's just tough guy talk. Strutting around with your friends over a pint of blood. The truth is, I like this world. You've got... dog racing, Manchester United. And you've got people. Billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs. It's all right here. But then someone comes along with a vision. With a real... passion for destruction. Angel could pull it off. Goodbye, Piccadilly. Farewell, Leicester Bloody Square. You know what I'm saying?"

*****

"That I'll have to agree with. You're pathetic, you know that?" Buffy asked him harshly. "You're not even a loser anymore; you're a shell of a loser."

"Yeah. You're one to talk," Spike muttered.

"Meaning?"

"The last time I looked in on you two, you were fighting to the death. Now you're back making googly-eyes at each other like nothing happened," he explained. "Makes me want to heave."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Buffy said coldly.

"Oh, yeah. You're just friends"

"That's right," Angel said, agreeing with Buffy.

"You're *not* friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both," Spike said. "You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends." Spike paused to point up at his temple. "Love isn't brains, children; it's blood... blood screaming inside you to work its will. *I* may be love's bitch, but at least *I'm* man enough to admit it."

It was very clear that this was not what Buffy and Angel wanted to hear, least of all coming from Spike. 

~~~~~

Thoughts, images, words, battles, and relationships raced throughout Anne's head as she slept. She saw Spike when he helped her stop Angel from awakening Acathla. She saw Spike when he tired to kill her dozens of times and never could. She watched the two of them bicker in Giles' armchair during their marriage spell. Anne saw Spike betray Buffy and her friends in order to help Adam and get the chip out of his head. 

Finally, the images were too much to take at once. When Anne thought that she couldn't see anymore without her head exploding, she forced herself to wake up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the next night came, Anne settled down under the covers of her bed and lay on her back, thinking about the past 48 hours. Those dreams that she had; there was no way that they could simply be her wild imagination from reading the journal. She had dreams of events that she couldn't possibly know about. No, there was something more to this. She was now becoming increasingly determined to find out what. 

All day she had felt uneasy, as if she didn't know what she was doing. Things were unclear, and the dreams only added to her confusion. Was she Buffy? Was Buffy somewhere inside of her screaming to get out? She'd seen so much in her dreams or were they memories? of Spike throughout Buffy's life. 

Giles' journal had ended after the fight with Glory, a hell god from another universe, who had opened a portal into hell, and Buffy stopped it. Anne assumed that's when Buffy had died. During the last few months, Giles rarely wrote in the journal anymore, so there wasn't too much evidence that this actually was Buffy's last battle; after all, she had died once before that. Ever since he had been fired in 1999, the journal was used less and less. 

As Anne settled back in bed, she hoped that the dreams would find her once again and maybe help her answer some of the questions racing throughout her mind.

~~~

This time Anne dreamed of something that Giles hadn't even written about in his journal.

__

She saw Spike standing at the bottom of a flight of stairs. She watched as his face changed from anger, confusion, to utter shock. "I'm... what did you do?" he asked in amazement.

"Me? Nothing!" a voice insisted. Anne looked forward and saw a slim brunette standing on a stair. Dawn, Anne thought. She looked down at herself and saw that she was standing in Buffy's place. Now, she was acting out what Buffy had gone through.

"Her hands," Spike said, nodding towards them.

"I was gonna fix 'em. I don't know how they got like that."

"I do," Spike said softly. "Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how. Isn't that right?"

"I ... Yes. I had to do that," she replied in a whisper.

"Done it myself. We'll take care of you. C'mere..." He reached out an arm to lead her down the rest of the stairs, pulling back slightly when he saw her actually start to walk down the stairs. "Get me some stuff, Mercurochrome, bandages," he told Dawn.

Spike led Buffy to the sofa where they slowly sat down, facing one another. Spike reached for her hands, holding them carefully, as if she would break if he handled her too roughly. Instead, he looked up and into her eyes, hoping to get a sign of emotion from her. 

"How long was I gone?" Buffy asked. Gone? Anne thought. 

"Hundred forty-seven days yesterday... um, one-forty-eight today. 'Cept today doesn't count, does it?" He forced a smile before continuing. "How long was it for you...where you were?"

"Longer," was all she could say. 

*****

And then something weird happened. Anne felt herself flash forward to...singing? She was no longer acting out Buffy's role but watching as Buffy sang a song by herself as she patrolled in the graveyard. The next day, everyone was singing in the Magic Box. Xander was accusing witches of casting a spell to make them sing, and then, Anya was singing about bunnies as flames and fireworks went off. And finally, Spike sang to Buffy, anger clear in his tone. 

Let me rest in peace

let me get some sleep

Let me take my love and bury it

In a hole 6 foot deep.

I lay my body down

But I can't find my sweet release...

Let me rest in peace.

Why won't you let me rest in peace?

As if she was watching one of those old-timey musicals, Anne felt herself being transported to the Golden Stake. But it isn't the Golden Stake yet, is it? she thought to herself. It's the Bronze.

She watched in awe as Buffy sang about where she had been -- heaven and how her friends had brought her back against her wishes. Then, she felt herself being transported out to the alley as Buffy pulled Spike in for a passionate kiss before running off into the night.

*****

"I wasn't planning on hurting you..." He smirked before continuing. "Much."

"You haven't even come close to hurting me," Buffy replied.

"Afraid to give me the chance?" Buffy and Spike punched and pulled at each other before Buffy pushed Spike up against a wall. "You afraid I'm gonna-" Spike was cut off when Buffy pressed her lips against his, her hand slamming into the wall. The two continued kissing, pushing each other against this wall and that before Buffy jumped up, wrapping her legs around Spike's waist and raining kisses around his face.

Oh god, Anne thought, taken aback that this was how their fight scene ended and completely embarrassed that she was here to watch it all.. They did *that*?!

*****

"I just don't see why you have to run off so quick," Spike started. He was lying on the floor as Buffy ran around frantically. Anne gazed at him, back up to Buffy, and then back at Spike with amazement in her face. "Thought we could-"

"Not gonna happen. Last night was the end of this freak show," Buffy explained.

"Don't say that," Spike said, pulling her down and into his lap.

"What did you think was gonna happen? What, we're gonna read the newspaper together, play footsie under the rubble?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind...," Spike said slowly, his hand creeping inside her skirt...

"Stop!" Buffy said, pushing him away.

"Make me."

"No! No!" She said before giving into him. She pressed herself against him, ran her hands through his hair, and spread kisses along his lips. "No, no, I-I have to-"

"Stay. I'm stuck here. Sun's up," Spike commanded. The two met again, this time falling over onto their sides as they kissed. "I knew it," Spike said when he pulled back, leaving Buffy gasping for breath. "I knew the only thing better than killing a slayer would be fu-"

"What?!" Buffy cried out, pushing him away from her. She quickly pulled herself to her feet and stepped away from him. "Is that what this is about? Doing a slayer?"

"Well, I wouldn't throw stones, pet. You seem to be quite the groupie yourself."

"Shut up," Buffy said, wiping off her mouth in disgust.

"I'm just sayin' ... vampires get you hot."

"*A* vampire got me hot. One," Buffy clarified. "But he's gone. You're just... You're just convenient."

"So, what now?" Spike asked as he pulled on his pants. "You go back to treating me like dirt till the next time you get an itch you can't scratch? Well, forget it. Last night changed things. I'm done being your whipping boy."

"Nothing's changed. It was a mistake."

"Bollocks! It was a bloody revelation." Spike strode toward her, saying, "You can act as high and mighty as you like, ... but I know where you live now, Slayer. I've tasted it."

"Get a grip," Buffy spoke softly. "Like you're god's gift."

"Hardly. Wouldn't be nearly as interesting, would it?" He leaned forward, as if to kiss her, but Buffy pushed him away. "I may be dirt, ... but you're the one who likes to roll in it, Slayer. You never had it so good as me. Never."

"Uhh, you're bent," Buffy said forcefully.

"Yeah, and it made you scream, didn't it?" Spike asked back with edginess in his tone. 

*****

Anne felt her surroundings change. She was outside in an alley and watching as Buffy walked towards the opening of the alley to the street. She didn't really know what was going on; all she knew was that she had to watch this scene.

"You're not going in there," Spike said from behind her.

"I have to do this. Just let me go," Buffy said. Do what? Anne thought to herself.

"I can't. I love you."

"No, you don't," Buffy stated flatly.

"You think I haven't tried not to?"

"Try harder," she said in a stern tone.

"You are not throwing your life away over this," Spike commanded.

"It's not your choice," she countered.

Spike looked at her as if he couldn't even believe that she was acting like this. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"A girl is dead because of me," Buffy said with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"And how many people are alive because of you?" Spike asked, as if the situation was simple. "How many have you saved? One dead girl doesn't tip the scale."

"That's all it is to you, isn't it? Just another body!" the slayer cried out. "You can't understand why this is killing me, can you?"

"Why don't you explain it?" The two began trading blows, Buffy throwing her fists left and right, colliding into Spike's face and body. "Come on, that's it, put it on me. Put it all on me." Buffy kicked him and set Spike backwards. "That's my girl."

"I am not your girl! You don't ... have a soul!" She said, leaning down and beginning to endlessly punch Spike in the face while he lay there, taking it all. "There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never ... be your girl!" she cried out. Anne winced when she saw Buffy beating Spike...How could he love someone who was always putting him down?

Spike squinted up, his eye bruised and swollen. "You always hurt ... the one you love, pet," he managed to say through his swollen mouth.

*****

"Oh. This is worse, isn't it? This is you telling me --" Spike said, approaching Buffy. Anne looked around and saw that Buffy and Spike were standing in a crypt. This must have been where Spike lived.

"Yeah. It's over," Buffy said.

"I've memorized this tune, love," Spike said, obviously not believing what she was telling him. "I think I have the sheet music. Doesn't change what you want."

"I know that. I do want you," she finally admitted. "Being with you... makes things simpler. For a little while," she added. 

I don't call five hours straight a little while," Spike said, his voice becoming less cold, and more caring.

"I'm using you," Buffy said, her tone also becoming less hard. "I can't love you. I'm just being weak, and selfish --"

Spike stared at her, sadness filling his eyes. "Really not complaining here --"

"-- And it's killing me," Buffy finished. "I have to be strong about this... I'm sorry, William."

*****

And just when Anne thought that she had seen everything, she watched as Buffy walked up to him and kissed him. This time there was no anger behind that kiss. This kiss was filled with innocence and a hope for a new beginning between the two of them. They were out in the open and sharing their love for each other. Buffy leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. She pressed her warm body into his cooler one, dragging her hands down his arms before latching onto the sides of his leather jacket. Spike mimicked her motions as the two kissed in the dark. 

Buffy slowly pulled back and looked at him. "Wow, uh..." Spike stuttered.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Spike." Buffy said, turning back and walking into the house. 

"Best present ever, love." Spike whispered into the air around him. 

*****

The settings changed once more and Anne gasped when she saw the scene before her. Spike dropped the stake he was holding and ran over to Buffy's side. He bent down on his knees and cradled her head. "Oh god," he muttered, running his other hand down across her chest. The vampire had staked her heart...God, he had killed her.

"Spike...I- I slipped up," Buffy stammered.

"It's okay, love. It's okay," Spike said, trying not to look too worried. His hand brushed over her chest and was covered in blood. 

Anne watched Spike cradle Buffy, holding back his tears until she was dead….She watched him cry out to the night-time sky, tears running down his cheeks, and she felt her own heart immediately go out to him. Not once, but twice, Spike had lost the woman he loved.

TBC...

Yeah, I know...not much of a chapter, but I really needed to get that out there.


	7. Chapter 6

****

Regaining Memories -- Part 6

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

****

Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone! I really appreciate it all!

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Anne jumped, forcing herself to sit up. "What the hell was that?" she whispered to herself, running her fingers through her hair. There had been nothing like that written in Giles' journal, yet these dreams seemed so realistic, as if being with Spike was the way it was meant to be. Anne took another deep breath, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart in order to keep herself from shaking. A light layer of perspiration covered her skin, and she wiped her forehead off, her breathing becoming more even and slow-paced. It wasn't every day that you had to go through your death three times in a row. 

Anne had millions of questions running around her head, but she didn't have any answers. But the memories were still fresh in her mind. *Now* was the time to act if she hoped to get any answers at all.

She climbed out of bed and threw on some comfortable clothes. She crossed the main room and grabbed the faded photo off of her kitchen counter and picked up the journal from the table. 

A second later, Anne burst into Andrew's apartment, a look of wild confusion and determination etched on her face. Andrew was seated at his dining room table, a cup of tea in his hand and the newspaper spread out in front of him. 

"You!" Anne said demandingly, pointing a finger at him. 

"And good morning to you, also," Andrew said sarcastically, setting the cup back on the table. 

"Tell me what the hell is going on," Anne said, striding across the room and closer to him. "I need answers now."

"With what?" 

Anne threw down the faded photo on the table in front of him. She placed the journal next to it before speaking. "This!"

"Oh...that," Andrew replied with a sigh.

"What is *that*, Andrew?" Anne asked loudly. "Wait, hold on. I'll tell you what it is. Andrew, it's Buffy!"

Andrew paused, not having expected this subject to come up so suddenly. "And?"

"And? That's all you're going to say is 'and'? I read Giles' journal, and then, I had these dreams. Andrew, there were things in these dreams that I couldn't have possibly known about. There was so much...Giles didn't even write about them."

"Dreams?" Andrew asked curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, dreams," Anne replied. "I...I dreamed about Buffy and Spike...what happened between the two of them."

"Over-active imagination?" Andrew questioned.

"No! Andrew, I'm serious. There were...things...things that I couldn't have known about." She looked at him with worry in her eyes. "Andrew, what's going on? What's happening?"

"Anne, I'm as much in the dark about this as you are," Andrew continued with a slight hesitation in his voice. "I would recommend that you go speak to Spike about all of this. After all, he was around her quite a bit."

That's no lie, Anne thought, thinking about to all the dreams she had of him. "Spike?" She asked aloud, her face paling. "I can't do that."

"If that's the only way to get any answers, I know that you'll do it," Andrew replied.

Anne scowled, knowing that he was right. "Whatever," she said softly. She picked up the faded photo of Buffy and turned on her heels, quickly leaving Andrew's apartment. She needed time to think before she just walked over to Spike's apartment. 

Andrew paused, listening to Anne's rapidly retreating footsteps. He closed the newspaper and pulled out a small, very worn book from where he'd placed it in his lap. He opened up to a page in the back, his eyes searching out for any word that could jump out at him as being related to his slayer. 

"_Memories lost...," _his eyes trailed over the printed words. Oh dear, he thought as his eyes continued reading. "Oh...bloody hell."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the day passed before Anne gave in and decided to go see Spike. Although she didn't know what she was going to say and how she was going to treat him, she knew that she just needed to see him. Maybe there was the chance that she could at least get some answers from him even though they had parted on bad terms. She approached the front door, her hand raised to knock, when she heard voices speak. 

"Are you sure, mate?" 

Spike, Anne thought, unrecognizable feelings rushing throughout her.

"Yes, I'm positive," another voice replied.

Andrew... Anne told herself. She climbed off the porch and walked over to the living room window, hoping she could see the two of them. She crouched down and slowly raised her head to gaze into the window. Spike and Andrew were standing in the middle of the room. Andrew held an open book in his hand as the two argued back and forth. 

"You're wrong," Spike said firmly.

"The Codex is never wrong, Spike," Andrew insisted. "It was right about Buffy dying at the hands of the master, and that was over one hundred years ago."

"Look at it again," Spike commanded.

Andrew began speaking, reciting the verse to the vampire.

__

"Memories lost,

This shall be the way of the slayer,

Through the help of a darkness

Memories regained and

The legendary Slayer will return,

Then must defeat the obstacles

And reclaim her name."

"Could they have made it any *more* vague?" Spike asked in annoyance. He shook his head, feeling positive that the "darkness" was referring to himself.

"Anne is...she will become Buffy," Andrew said without any uncertainty in his tone.

And there it was. Anne was never meant to be here. Her whole life had been meant for Buffy, not her. She was just the vessel, just a stupid body that Buffy would eventually take over. Anne crouched down to the ground, not wanting to hear any more of their conversation.

"This is bull," Spike protested. "If anyone deserved eternal peace, its Buffy. She said that she didn't want to be brought back...I promised her that I wouldn't bring her back."

"Look, it's a prophecy. There is nothing that you can even do about it. Maybe there is way to prevent it from happening right *now*, but it will eventually occur. You can't stop this." 

"And are you even the slightest bit concerned with what those so-called 'obstacles' are?" Spike asked, looking up at Andrew.

"Of course I am," Andrew retorted. "But if she is truly Buffy Summers, she should be able to defeat anything. It will be her test."

"Don't you even care?" Spike raised his voice. "You're just like all the rest of the watchers over there in bloody ol' England. The Slayer isn't a person to you all; she's a damn tool!"

"That's not true anymore," Andrew replied angrily, taking a step towards Spike. "And you should be glad that you're allowed to even work with her. I could have staked you on the spot, but I allowed you to work with her."

Spike growled. What had started out as a simple conversation about what was happening to Anne quickly grew into a loud argument between Watchers and vampires. "Get out," he said brusquely. 

"My pleasure," Andrew replied curtly, snapping the book closed and heading towards the door. 

Anne waited outside, cowering behind the bushes as she listened to Andrew close the front door and walk down the steps. She slowly stood up when she was sure that Andrew was far away and hurried up the stairs, wondering if she should knock or simply barge in. Finally, she lightly tapped on the door.

"I told you to get out!" Spike yelled through the door.

"I...uh, it's me," Anne said.

Spike opened the door, a look of utter shock on his face. Bloody hell, didn't expect to see her back here anytime soon. "Hey," he said, a smile appearing on his face.

"Hi, can I come in?" she asked.

"Sure."

Once inside, Anne turned around and faced him, a serious expression on her face. "Look...uh, last time I was here, I said some pretty harsh things to you."

"And I deserved it," Spike said, not wanting Anne to blame herself. 

"No...I pretty much yelled at you, and you stood there taking it all," Anne continued. "And...I'm sorry, for saying those things. I shouldn't have said all that stuff about Buffy."

"It's all right," Spike said quietly. 

"No, I think that this is pretty far from being 'all right', but it'll do," Anne replied. She pulled out the photo from her pocket and held it out to him. "Guess I should give this back to you."

Spike reached out and silently took Buffy's picture, placing it in his jeans pocket. Spike stared at the floor for a second, not really knowing what to say. "So was that all?" he asked, glancing back up at her. 

"I guess it was," Anne said regretfully as she started walking back to the front door. Spike reached for the doorknob to open the door for Anne at the same time she reached to open the door for herself. Their fingertips touched; their hands made contact, and that was all they needed. Acting purely on instinct, Anne threw herself into Spike's arms. An eerie deja vu feeling passed over her, but Anne pushed it to the back of her mind.

Spike was surprised by Anne's sudden motion, but he wasn't stupid. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards his body. The two stood in the hallway, hands running through each other's hair, fingers running over bare skin. They paused only to allow Anne to gasp for another breath. "Spike..." Anne whimpered, enfolding her arms around his neck and standing on her toes to reach him.

"Buffy..." Spike whispered before he could catch himself. 

Anne pulled back and stared at him as Spike mentally prepared himself to be punched in the nose. Instead, she raised her face and placed a kiss in the hollow of his neck before moving upward and kissing him on the lips. "Come on," she whispered, taking his hand and beginning to lead him back to his room. 

Once in his room, Anne pulled Spike closer to her, spreading wet, warm kisses on his face. "Anne...what are we-"

"Shh," she replied, covering his mouth with her own for an instant. "Call me Buffy," she whispered. 

Anne pulled Spike onto the bed beside her and laced her arms around him, easing herself onto his lap. "God, Buffy..." Spike murmured. The couple fell back onto the bed and, very quickly, the two were lost within each other.

~~~

Anne opened her eyes but was forced to close them when a bright light suddenly popped on in front of her. She squinted at her surroundings, not noticing anything familiar. Great, just what I need, another dream, she thought. Just perfect. "Hello?" she asked uncertainly.

"Hey there," a warm voice called out. 

The lights quickly dimmed and Anne looked forward to find herself staring at...herself? "Bu...Buffy?" she asked with hesitation in her tone. 

"You guessed right!" she replied, taking a step towards Anne. "I thought that now was a really good time to try and talk to you since...well, I know what's going on with you and Spike. I had to talk to you about the two of you."

Anne rolled her eyes -- this was not what she needed -- her inner subconscious giving her a memory pep talk. "Look, I know how to handle Spike."

"Do you?" Buffy turned sideways and moved her right hand around in a circle at her side. A cloud appeared when her hand circled over the white surface, and an image of Spike and Anne appeared. The two were sleeping on their sides, a look of serenity and calmness on both of their faces. "Seems like I got to you just in the nick of time," Buffy commented. She stared at Spike, sighing when she remembered her own time with him. 

"Do we have to keep watching this?" Anne asked uncomfortably, unable to remover her gaze from the image of Spike and herself. 

The two watched as Spike lifted his head and placed a light kiss on Anne's neck before falling back to sleep. "It's amazing. Even after a hundred years, he's still in love with you," Buffy stated matter-of-factly.

"He's in love with *you*, not me," Anne corrected her.

"But you are me." 

"No, I'm not!" Anne cried out.

"Yes, in a way you are," Buffy replied, drawing closer to Anne. "I know you've been dreaming about my life; I needed you to see. I'm inside of you, Anne. I'm buried deep inside of your subconscious, screaming to get out."

"But I don't want it!" Anne protested. "It's bad enough that I'm the Slayer that everyone is calling the next Buffy Summers. I've got live up to your legacy. I've got all that to worry about, and then...then Spike comes into the picture."

"And?"

"And I don't want it!" Anne cried out again. "I don't want this. I want *my* life, a life without these complications."

"Let me tell you this, at least. He and I only got one month to fully be together...well, without all the angst, the secrets, and the shame," Buffy said, regret filling her voice. "You have the chance to be together longer, forever, because he won't leave you."

Anne stared incredulously at her, trying to draw up past dreams and memories to figure out what Buffy was talking about. "Like Angel left you? Like...that other guy?"

"Yeah, Spike is pretty devoted," Buffy said with a smile on her face. "I think he's referred to himself as 'love's bitch' numerous times."

Anne smiled. "I don't know...this is all so weird. I feel so...so attracted to him. It's like I literally can't fight it."

"Then, don't," Buffy replied as if it were as simple as that. 

"That easy, huh?" Anne asked her.

Buffy nodded, hoping what she was telling Anne would sink in. "Do you still not want this?"

"I don't know...maybe. Maybe I can try to understand all of this," Anne started to say. "Maybe as long as he's around, I think that I can get through this."

"You sure will; I'm sure of it," Buffy said confidently. "Ready to start?" She raised her hand and kissed her fingertips before reaching out and laying her fingers on Anne's forehead.

~~~

TBC...

  
Comments? Questions? No flames please, but I'd love to know what you think of the story.


	8. Chapter 7

****

Regaining Memories -- Part 7

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

****

Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She felt Buffy touch her forehead with her warm fingers and then jumped up on the bed, finally awake. Wait...this isn't my bed, she thought for a second. She looked across and saw Spike lying on his back, his eyes tightly closed. Anne pulled the sheet up to her chest, fear filling her heart. Now I know how Buffy felt, Anne thought, terrified of what Spike's first words would be. She could vividly remember her dreams of Buffy and Spike's first morning after, and she was unsure of what to do and how he would act and how she should react.

So...she was Buffy Summers. No wonder everyone compared her to the original slayer. They were the same, and for some reason, Anne wasn't as upset about that as she used to be.

The only question was -- did she want to deal with this? Acknowledging that she was Buffy Summers meant throwing away the life she had built for herself for almost twenty one years, and Anne wasn't sure if she was ready to do that. She needed time, time to think and plan and figure out what was going to make her happy. But would Spike give her the time?

The phone rang on the bedside table and on instinct, Anne reached over and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Uh...Spike?" Andrew asked.

"Oh! Andrew!" Anne cried out, forgetting that she was over at Spike's house. "He's here; do you want to talk to him?"

"Well, it would just be easier to talk to all of you all at my apartment. You two should train some also," Andrew said, his voice sounding surprisingly calm. 

God, if only I could see him now, Anne thought to herself. "All right." She hung up the phone after saying goodbye to her watcher. Anne leaned over the side of the bed searching for the clothes that she had worn last night. She grabbed her shirt and threw it on quickly before turning over and looking for her pants. 

Spike's legs shifted, and he raised his hands in the air, stretching, before he opened his eyes. He gazed at Anne and watched as she frantically looked around for her outfit. "Good morning, love," Spike said in a low voice.

Anne paused, not even turning around to look at him. "Morning Spike. C'mon, we have to get over to Andrew's place."

Spike stared at her backside in amazement. There hadn't even been one sign that she wanted to acknowledge what had happened between the two of them yesterday. "So...we're just going to act like nothing happened?"

Anne froze, not knowing if she should say, "No, I don't ever want to leave your embrace again. I love the way you make me feel, the way that you made me feel last night," or if she should respond with a simple...

"That's right," she said simply.

"Oh...I see," Spike said with hurt saturating his tone. "Well, now I *know* that you are Buffy."

"Do *not* compare me to her!" Anne said, turning back around and glaring at him. "I am *not* Buffy Summers." The words came flying out of her mouth before she could even stop herself. 

"Oh really?" Spike noted sarcastically. He grabbed her bare waist and pulled her close to him. "Then how come I know exactly what makes you weak.…" He ran his hands down her thigh, and he smiled when he heard her breath jump and her heart beat increase. "What makes you moan..." He dragged a trail of cool kisses up her shoulder, neck, and cheek.

Anne sighed, telling herself to drop the facade and give in to his love. Instead, she pushed him away and stood up, the sheet wrapped around her waist. "That's just a coincidence," she said coldly. "I read about Buffy's life and. I...I just wanted to let you believe that you were with her again."

"You don't mean that," Spike said, the hurt returning to his voice.

"Yes I do!" She carefully avoided his eyes by looking down for her clothes and finding the rest of her outfit. She slipped her clothes back on before throwing the sheet back on him. "It...last night was nothing to me! *You* are nothing to me."

"Oh really, love? Well, that's not the impression I understood from last night," Spike said, smirking up at her.

"Spike, you don't matter to me! You are *dead* to me!" Both her and Spike's eyes widened when they realized what she had said and the fact that she had said it to him one hundred years ago. "Oh god," she whispered. "We have to go."

~~~

Spike and Anne entered Andrew's apartment, standing as far apart from each other as they possibly could. Wilona and Alex were sitting at Andrew's table while Andrew paced around with a book in his hand.

"Ahh, the two of you are here," Andrew said. "It's about time."

"Well, we would have been here sooner, but since Spike is allergic to the sun, we had to get the blanket and run," Anne said, rolling her eyes over to Spike.

"Well, excuse me love...sorry my being a vampire slowed you down," Spike growled back at her.

Anne ignored him and walked over to the table, sliding off her jacket and sitting down. "What's the deal here, Andrew?"

"Well, I was researching Giles' old journals last night when he started talking about how the Watcher's Council was always out to get Buffy," Andrew informed the tense pair. "The prophecy reads:

Memories lost,

This shall be the way of the slayer,

Through the help of a darkness

Memories regained

The legendary Slayer will return,

Then must defeat the obstacles

And reclaim her name.

"I think that with this prophecy, it could relate to the watchers. Spike?"

"Well, they were never fond of Buffy, that's true," Spike said thoughtfully, "And since Anne *is* Buffy, they are obviously not going to like her." He rolled his eyes and smirked at her.

"I'm *not* Buffy!" Anne hissed with irritation, shooting a burning glare at Spike. "I don't care how many times you say that name; I am not her."

Wilona looked over at Alex with worry in her eyes. "What are they talking about?" Alex shrugged but looked back at the two, enjoying the show.

"I mean, can't you just drop it!" Anne said, throwing her hands in the air. "The only reason that I'm so...so mixed up right now is you!"

"So what? You want me to leave? I'm here whether you like it or not, Slayer, and I'm here to stay. I was sent here to protect you, and I'm not going to break that promise. I don't care whether-"

"Spike! Shut up!" Anne said loudly. 

"Should we...uh, stop them?" Wilona whispered over to Alex.

"How?" he wondered.

"Make me!" Spike shouted, standing to his feet and facing her, a look of anger and pure hatred on his expression. God, make this end, Spike was inwardly thinking. He didn't want to be fighting with her. No, he wanted to apologize for everything that he had said this morning at his apartment and on the way to Andrew's apartment.

Anne looked at up him, preparing to say something else. Instead, she bit her lower lip and crossed her arms, turning her head and refusing to look him the eye. Why does he have to just provoke me to yell at him even more? she asked herself, not wanting to fight with Spike. Tears welled in her eyes, and Anne fought to keep them down. "Spike, just be quiet," she said softly.

Spike saw the threatening tears and softened, following her command. He sat down and signaled Andrew to continue.

Andrew glanced back from Anne and then to Spike. "As I was saying...I think that the Watchers could be planning something to get Anne out of the way and keep the prophecy from ever happening." He closed the book that he was holding and peered over his glasses at the group. "I tried to call the Watchers and didn't get any response, so I can't confirm this, but something is wrong."

"So what do we do, Andrew?" Wilona asked.

"I'm not sure; all I know is that we have to be prepared for anything," Andrew said wearily. "Spike, I want you and Anne to go downstairs and train."

Spike glanced nervously between Anne and Andrew. "Uh, I'm not sure that's the best idea, mate."

"I don't care!" Andrew said. "I want you two to take whatever...problems that you have and just get over them for right now, do you two understand?" 

"Yes," the slayer and vampire both responded at the same time. "Come on, Spike," Anne said, rising to her feet. "Let's go."

~~~

Spike closed the door behind the two of them after they went into the training room. Spike kept his distance from Anne, not sure if they should be in the same room with each other. He turned around and saw Anne walk over to the hurdle. She leaned her elbows on top of the hurdle and shed quiet tears, placing her head in her hands. 

"Anne?" Spike asked, taking a step towards her. "Anne?" No reply once again. "...Buffy?"

"Hmm?" she asked, straightening up. "Oh...don't call me that."

"Okay, fine," Spike replied.

"I hate you," Anne said bitterly. "If you had never come here, everything would still be the same. But you had to come to my town and screw everything up."

"I didn't have a choice," Spike said.

"I know," Anne started. "And now...all those dreams are invading my mind. I can't get them out of my head."

"Dreams?"

"Yeah...I've been having dreams. They're of you and Buffy. What you two did, how she died, what you did to her...she did to you, I watched it all play out," Anne said, sighing. "But that doesn't make it any easier."

"I'm sorry," Spike said honestly.

"I know, but...God, I wish that you had never come here."

"Well, I'm still sorry," Spike said slowly, his heart going out to her. He never meant to hurt her feelings; hell, he was against this from the very beginning. The only reason he even thought about going was that Buffy told him to.

Anne sank heavily onto the love seat across the room. "I just don't know..."

"Don't know what?" Spike asked, following her and sitting down beside her.

"I don't know who I am anymore," Anne admitted. "Am I Buffy? Anne? Who?"

"You're...you," Spike said. "You're the woman that I fell in love with one hundred years ago...the woman that I *am* falling in love with all over again."

Anne looked over at him with disbelief in her eyes. "You love me?"

"I've always loved you."

"You love Buffy," Anne corrected him.

"Wrong...it's *you*." Spike said. "The same, vibrant Slayer. It doesn't matter what name you go by; it's your *soul* that I love."

A tear slowly dropped down Anne's cheek. "God, how can you love me after this morning?"

"I just do."

"I should have..." Anne started, not really knowing how she could even begin to make it right. "I could have been nicer, I should have *not* acted like Buffy did to you that time."

"I wasn't really expecting anything else though," Spike said, smiling at her. "I mean, that's how you treated me for the majority of our time together, so why should I have expected anything else?"

"But still...I was acting on the memories I had of you and Buffy, not the way that I *really* feel for you. I just didn't want to deal with anything right then," Anne said. She remembered everything that Buffy had told her, everything that she had seen, but she still didn't want to admit that she was Buffy Summers, not Anne Winters. "I don't want to deal with this right now...God, I don't want to."

"Well, if you need more time to deal...I can wait," Spike said without hesitation.

"Really?" Spike nodded. "Thank you," she said, trying to show him that she was sincere with her eyes.

Anne leaned over and gently kissed him. When she pulled back to end the kiss, Spike's hand came out and rested against the back of her head, stopping her from pulling away. Anne scooted closer to Spike, wrapping her arms around his neck as she straightened up to return her kiss. "God, Buffy," Spike muttered, pausing to allow Anne to take a gasp of air before pressing his lips against hers once more. 

To their right, the training room door opened. Anne and Spike heard a high-pitch squeal and they quickly jumped apart, guilty looks on both of their faces. Wilona stood in the doorway, a stunned expression on her face.

"Uh...uh..." she stammered, her mouth dropping open.

Anne took a deep breath to calm herself and ran her fingers through her hair. "Wilona!" she said, standing up. "What...uh, what did you want?"

"Uh...Andrew...he wants you two back upstairs," Wilona said slowly. 

Spike rose and the two of them started walking towards the doorway. Spike ran his hand down Anne's back, giving her a comforting pat, before moving ahead and climbing the stairs. Wilona gave Anne a "Details now!" look, to which Anne replied with a "Later" expression.

~~~


	9. Chapter 8

****

Regaining Memories -- Part 8

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

****

Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone! I'm glad you're enjoying it! Please let me know what you think of this part!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Anne was traveling to Spike's apartment, planning on telling him some things that she figured out. She was finally ready to start facing her past and her future, just as long as he had him by her side to help her get through it.

She approached the steps. She knocked on the door, which Spike automatically answered. "Hey!" she greeted, stepping forward and pressing a kiss against his face.

"Anne...hi," Spike replied, slightly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"What? Not glad to see me?"

"No, delighted, love...just curious."

"Well, I know that we need to...uh, talk, and I thought that now would be a good time," Anne stated her reason for being there. She and Spike entered the living room and sat down on the couch.

"So, what do we need to talk about?" Spike asked curiously.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe you could tell me some things about Buffy...you know, what she did, what she was-" her voice was cut off by a loud banging on the door. "Expecting company?" she asked.

Suddenly the door burst open. Three men, all dressed in leather jackets, walked through the doorway. Two were carrying crossbows, and the other was armed with a stake and cross. 

"What the hell?" Spike asked, rising to his feet. 

"We were sent here to take you out," one of the men said in a British accent. He pulled the trigger on the crossbow, which Spike barely managed to avoid by ducking. The arrow shot past him and plunged into the wall.

"Blood hell," Spike cursed under his breath. "Get out of my house," he demanded when he stood back up.

"Well, we're taking you with us," one of the other men growled, also pulling the trigger. Spike dodged, but the arrow lodged in his shoulder. Spike cursed and pulled the arrow out, clutching his shoulder.

"Spike!" Anne shouted, rushing towards him. "You!" she said, looking at the three men, anger in her eyes.

"We weren't here to deal with you, missy," the man who was holding the cross and stake commented. "We just want the vampire, and then, we'll be outta your way."

"I don't think so," Anne retorted. "Get out!" She ran toward the men, punching and kicking...doing anything she could to get them out of the house and keep Spike safe. Two of the men were already outside. The third man, possibly the leader, slammed his fist into Anne's face, pushing her backwards. 

"We'll be back, girlie," he said, sneering in her face before turning around and fleeing into the night. Anne watched the men run, listening as one yelled, "Bugger! The bloody Slayer wasn't suppose to be there!"

Anne left the door open and rushed over to where Spike was laying. She bent down on her knees and hugged Spike, knocking his back to the floor and kissing him on the lips. "God, I almost lost you!" she said, tears falling down her face. "I could have lost you, Spike."

"It's okay, love, I'm here."

"No...but they, they wanted to kill you," Anne said hoarsely. "I can't lose you, Spike...You're the only one that can help me figure out who I really am."

"It'll be all right," Spike reassured, running his hand through her hair. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll live," Spike said, smirking at the irony of what he had said.

Anne stood back from Spike, gazing in the direction that the three men had run off. "They were British," she noted. "They were watchers."

"I know."

"That means that they really want me out of the picture," Anne said with some disbelief. "They think that I'm turning into Buffy, so if they get you out of the way, they can end the prophecy."

"I think that's the gist of it."

"Then we've got to end it...we've got to end this, *now*," Anne said with a commanding tone. 

That's my girl, Spike thought, proud of how she was dealing with this. "I know," he said, placing a light kiss on her temple. "We should tell Andrew about this." And we should talk about whatever is going on between us. I won't let the same thing happen that happened between Buffy and me.

"I know." She leaned over and kissed him on his cheek. "But...later?" she asked, pressing another kiss on his lips.

Spike sighed and kissed Anne, leaving her gasping for more breath and another kiss. "Yeah, much later," he replied.

~~~

Almost a whole week had passed before Anne worked up enough courage to visit Spike's apartment again. As she approached the doorstep, she mentally ran over what she was going to say and how she was going to say it. The last time she had been over at his place, they had simply slept together again. They had never gotten to actually talk about what was going on between the two of them. Hopefully tonight, she'd be able to sit down and talk with him.

Anne walked up the steps and knocked on the door. When her knuckles hit the door, the door swung open very slowly. Anne looked down at the doorknob and saw that it had been broken. "Spike?" she called, taking a step inside the house.

"Spike!" she shouted again when she saw the mess that lay before her. Shelves had been broken, the couch cushions were thrown around the room, the lamp lay broken on the floor, and books were scattered everywhere. Worst of all -- no sign of Spike. "Spike!" Anne repeated.

She took a deep breath, grabbing onto her hair and pulling. Oh God, he's not here. She left his apartment in a jog. 

Sunnydale wasn't huge, but she didn't even know where to begin searching for him, if he was even in town anymore. She turned down the sidewalk bound for another part of town. Maybe there were some demons that she could beat up who would give her answers about what was going on. She needed answers...needed Spike.

Anne strode quickly down the main street, glancing around and down the alleys where she might find any vampires or demons. To her left, she heard sounds of something scrambling around. She turned down an alley and walked cautiously to the end of it, looking around. Suddenly, four men jumped out of the shadows, holding out primitive weapons. Anne grabbed two of them and pushed them back into the other two. She lashed out and punched one, kicked him in the face, and shoved him back onto the concrete.

She continued fighting, and very soon three of the men were on the ground unconscious. "Stop!" the final man shouted. He pulled out a gun -- a very expensive, automatic weapon.

Anne froze, not wanting to get shot. She couldn't find Spike if she was dead; that much she knew. "Stopped."

"Well, that was uncalled for."

"Yeah? But it was fun," Anne replied in a Buffy-like tone of voice.

"You're the Slayer, I'm assuming," he said, moving closer to her.

"What gave you the first hint?" Anne asked him.

"If you want to see the vampire again, you're going to have to play things our way. Do you understand?"

"Where is he? Take me to him," Anne ordered. The man turned on his heels and guided her to the end of the alley. "And for your sake, he better be alive."

~~~

Anne was led into a dark, rusted warehouse. The man who had brought her here continued walking into the room and knocked on the door. "In here," he said gruffly.

Anne entered the room and blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light. "Spike!" she cried out when she saw him chained to the ceiling of the warehouse. He was barely conscious. Spikes were sticking out of his side and his face had been beaten. Three men stood around him, one holding a poker and another cracking his knuckles as they paced around Spike. The other man was standing in front of Spike with his back turned to Anne.

"Stop! Right there!" the man from the alley said firmly, holding out the gun. "I didn't say you could touch him." He turned to the man who wasn't doing anything to hurt Spike. "Mr. Travers, we're ready."

"Travers?" Anne asked. Instantly, a flash went through her mind. Memories of Buffy dealing with Quentin Travers came rushing back to her.

*****

__

"The Slayer is not the only one who must perform in this situation," Quentin explained about the test Buffy had to face. "I've recommended to the Council, and they've agreed, that you be relieved of your duties as Watcher immediately. You're fired." Giles was outraged and asked a question, to which Quentin responded, "Your affection for your charge has rendered you incapable of clear and impartial judgment. You have a father's love for the child, and that is useless to the cause. It would be best if you had no further contact with the Slayer."

Giles said that he wasn't going to go anywhere; something that Quentin already knew anyway. He turned to Buffy and said, "Congratulations again."

"Bite me," she replied in a cold tone.

Quentin chuckled before speaking, "Yes, well, colorful girl."

*****

Don't trust him; whatever he says, Anne told herself as she started at the man who was the spitting image of Quentin Travers. "Why are you doing this?" 

"Ahh, Miss Winters," Mr. Travers began, "Or should I call you Miss Summers? Are we that far along yet?"

"Let him go," Anne said forcefully.

"I don't think so," Travers said. Anne took a step towards Spike. The man who held the gun raised the barrel toward her, forcing Anne to stop moving. 

"Then, what are you going to do with him?"

"Kill him, Miss Winters," Travers said calmly. "We have to kill him to end the prophecy."

"Then, you're too late anyway. The prophecy has already started," Anne said, trying to convince him to not kill Spike. 

"And we will end it," he stated. "We must."

"No, I already have the memories of everything," Anne continued her argument. She had all the memories of Spike, everything that they had done together. "All the memories that I need, I've got."

Travers looked at her in surprise and then back at Spike. "Then why do you need the vampire?"

"Because I do. I...I need him, I just do," Anne admitted. There, do you hear me, Spike? I need you! She looked behind Travers and watched as Spike slowly lifted his head and squinted at her. He cracked a small, painful smile that Anne couldn't help but quickly return.

Another memory flashed through her mind...Buffy acting so powerful, commanding the watchers around, when it was supposed to be the other way around.

__

*****

"You're Watchers," Buffy spoke as she paced around the Magic Box. "Without a Slayer, you're pretty much just watching' Masterpiece Theater. You can't stop Glory. You can't do anything with the information you have except maybe publish it in the 'Everyone Thinks We're Insane-O's Home Journal.' So here's how it's gonna work. You're gonna tell me everything you know. Then you're gonna go away. You'll contact me if and when you have any further information about Glory. The magic shop will remain open. Mr. Giles will stay here as my official Watcher, reinstated at full salary...to be paid retroactively from the month he was fired. I will continue my work with the help of my friends..."

  
"But we're talking about children," one of the watchers said.

  
"We're talking about two very powerful witches and a thousand-year-old ex-demon," Buffy explained.

  
"Willow's a demon?!" Anya asked, trying to not let out her secret.

  
"The boy?" The other watcher asked her. "No power there."

"The boy has clocked more field time than all of you combined. He's part of the unit." Buffy paused, looking up at her friends before addressing the watchers in the room. "Now. You all may be very good at your jobs. The only way we're gonna find out is if you work with me. You can all take your time thinking about that. But I want an answer right now from Quentin, 'cause I think he's understanding me."

  
Travers cleared his throat before speaking. "Uh, your terms are acceptable."

*****

Anne walked up to Travers and looked him defiantly in the eye. "That means that I want you *out*. I want you out of this town. I want out of *my* town...this state. I want you and your crew out of this country, and I never want to see you again. You can't stop this, and I don't want you to. There isn't a thing you can do about it."

Travers stared back at her before backing away. "I see. Well, now I know that you are Miss Summers." 

"Are you understanding me?" Anne asked him.

"Yes. Yes, Miss Winters...uh, Miss Summers, I understand," Travers said, backing down.

Anne sighed, relief clear in her motions. She wasn't sure if they would be gone for good; in fact, there was a good chance that they would be back sometime soon to cause even more trouble. However, at least they were gone for now. And finally, she could deal with Spike. She ran up to him and loosened the chains, dropping him slowly to the floor.

"Bu...Buffy?" Spike called out slowly.

"Yeah, it's Buffy," Anne replied, kissing his forehead. "I'm going to get you out of here, I just need to...get those pokers out of your chest." She pulled out the two pokers, flinching when Spike screamed out in pain. "Let me get you home," she whispered.

Spike chuckled when a thought went through his mind. "You need me?" he asked, gazing at her with questions in his eyes.

Anne smiled and kissed his cheek. "Of course, I need you." She peered up at Travers with a gleam in her eye. "See? The prophecy has already happened; there was nothing you could have done anyway."

Travers paused and looked down at the blonde woman. "Actually...the prophecy hasn't been completed yet."

Anne rose to her feet and stared at the Watcher. "What do you mean? I have my memories back and managed to keep Spike away from you guys. Isn't that all?" Anne questioned.

"Not even. We weren't even a part of the prophecy." Travers said cockily. 

"What?" Anne asked, confusion clear on her face. "Oh...crap."

~~~

TBC...

Did you like it? Let me know!


	10. Chapter 9

****

Regaining Memories -- Part 9

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

****

Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone! This is about it, we're almost done with the story, so enjoy the 2nd to last part!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"We have a problem!" Anne said as she hurried through the doorway into Andrew's apartment.

"Anne!" Wilona and Alex called, standing and approaching their friend. "What happened?"

"Where's Spike?" Wilona asked.

"He's upstairs, sleeping in my apartment," Anne explained, trying not to smile or blush. "Those damn watchers tortured him...god, I hate them all." Andrew came through the doorway, clearing his throat. "Oh, present company excluded, of course."

"Naturally," Andrew said. "Now...what was this problem?"

"The watchers, they weren't part of the prophecy, Andrew," Anne explained. "Travers just came here to stop me from getting my memories; they had no part of this."

"Oh dear," Andrew said, rubbing his forehead. "Then...what is?"

"The end of the world…that's what Travers told me," Anne revealed.

"Again?!" Wilona and Alex yelled in surprise.

"Travers told me that there was something that would try to re-open the Hellmouth. Andrew, can they really do that?" Anne asked. Years ago, decades before Anne had been called, a slayer and a small group of friends had managed to permanently close the hellmouth. "I thought it was deactivated."

"Well, truthfully...so did I," Andrew admitted. 

"What do we do?" Wilona asked in concern. 

"Well...surprisingly enough, it's going to have to start with --" Andrew's voice was suddenly cut off when the ground beneath them started to shake. Andrew dropped the book he was holding and managed to stumble toward the three people standing in the middle of the room. "Hurry! In between a doorway!" he commanded. 

Anne, Alex, and Wilona followed Andrew's orders and waited until the rumbling passed. "Wow...," Alex started after the shaking ended. "What do you think that was? A 3.4?"

Wilona took a nervous step away from the doorway where she had been standing. "Wow...that was my first major earthquake."

"That wasn't an earthquake," Anne said softly, when she remembered Buffy having a very similar experience. 

"What?" Andrew asked. "Anne?"

"That...that was the hellmouth reopening."

"What? How do you know that?" Andrew asked her. 

"I just know," she answered him seriously. "All right...we need to stop it from opening completely," she said in a commanding tone. 

"How?" Alex asked. "We don't even know where the hellmouth is located anymore!"

"I know where it is," Anne stated. "It's where Sunnydale High School used to be..." everyone looked at her with blank stares. "The -- the high school back in 1999." Again, with the blank stares, she thought. 

"What are you talking about, Anne?" Alex questioned her.

"It's where the middle school is," Anne said. "The high school got blown up and they rebuilt the middle school there."

"Oooh," replied the group. 

"The hellmouth was located in the library and..." Anne's voice died off as she started walking over to Andrew's desk. She opened the cabinet and pulled out Giles' journal. She opened the book and flipped through several pages, her eyes skimming over the words and pictures before she stopped. Anne flattened out the page and stared at the layout of the school, a star located on the mouth of hell.

"Wil," she started. "I need blueprints of the current school," Anne said.

Wilona walked over to Andrew's table and turned on her laptop. "Okay," she said. 

Anne walked up to her and lay the book next to the computer. "I want to find out where the library would be today if the school was still standing."

"All right," Wilona said, her fingers flying over the keys as she broke through the city's codes. 

"Hurry, Wil...hurry," Buffy chanted underneath her breath.

"Here!" Wilona exclaimed. "Here are the blueprints."

Buffy looked down at Giles' book and his scratchy writing, and then back up to the computer screen, trying to figure out where they matched up. "There," she said, laying her finger on the screen. "I think it's going to open there."

~~~

"So...what's going to happen if the hellmouth opens? Anyone know?" Alex asked as he followed Anne, Andrew, and Wilona through the building. They were walking through Sunnydale Middle School, the grounds where the high school had once stood before Buffy blew it up.

"I do," Anne said in a soft, yet commanding tone. 

"Yes, you seem to know what's going on better than I do," Andrew observed. "How is that exactly?"

"I'll tell everyone later," Anne stated. 

"Maybe we should have brought Spike," Wilona suggested.

"Spike is in no condition to fight," Anne said. "I can't have him fighting if he's going to be a liability." I need him safe, she told herself. "Besides, I can handle it."

The gang rounded a corner and followed Anne as she walked through several different hallways. The blueprints had suggested that the hellmouth now rested underneath the cafeteria. Anne just hoped that Giles knew what he was doing when he drew the layout of the high school. "I think that there should be about...three demons trying to do this ritual thing."

"And....*how* do we know these things?" Alex asked.

"I'll explain everything...if we get through this," Anne said, looking around the corner. She stopped walking, frozen when she saw the demon standing on the floor. She looked past the demon and her mouth dropped open when she saw the huge crack in the floor, steam and sounds rising out of it.

Behind her, Wilona gasped as Alex whispered, "Nope, just one *really* big demon!"

The ground started shaking beneath their feet again and the gang grabbed onto the wall for support to keep themselves from falling. Anne watched the crack widen even more as the demon dropped something into the slit. Suddenly, a monster with three heads began rising out of the hellmouth, slime falling off its skin, and Anne knew that was just the beginning.

The ground started shaking beneath their feet again, and the gang grabbed onto the wall for support to keep themselves from falling. "We have to do this *now*!" Anne cried out. With that said, she pulled out the sword that had been sheathed in her belt and hidden inside her jacket. "Back me up, but don't get too close," she explained to her friends and watcher. And after saying that, she dashed into the room, prepared to do battle.

~~~

TBC....

Epilogue to follow asap. Please let me know what you think of the story so far.


	11. Epilogue

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Regaining Memories -- Epilogue

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

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Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone!

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The demons had been killed with great teamwork. Anne finally killed the demon that opened the hellmouth by cutting off its head. The hellmouth hadn't been fully opened yet, thank God, and the three-headed demon was the only thing that managed to get out, another demon that Anne swiftly executed. Andrew and Wilona performed a simple spell that resealed the hellmouth, hopefully making it more difficult to open in future years. 

The watchers hadn't been seen in town since that one night, and the gang thought that they could finally relax a little bit. 

Several nights later, Alex, Wilona, Anne, and Spike all gathered at the Golden Stake. Alex and Wilona were dancing out on the dance floor. Their plan was to leave Anne and Spike alone so they could talk everything out. Hopefully, it would also allow everything between the two of them to return to normal. Of course, that would never happen if neither one of them started up a conversation!

Anne glanced over at Spike, watching him drink his beer. He looks so normal, just like he belongs here, she thought in amazement. 

"I still can't believe it," Spike said.

"What?" Anne asked, having not heard what he said since she was too lost in her thoughts.

"I can't believe that the one chance I would have had to kick some demon ass, and I was bleeding all over your couch like a nancy boy," Spike said partly out of disappointment. "I should have been out there helping you."

"Well, you helped me train for it," Anne reminded him. "I definitely did *not* 'leave my left side open for any nasties' this time," she said, imitating Spike's accent.

"That is a horrible accent, love," Spike said, smirking at her. Their conversation stopped for a second because they didn't really know what else to say to each other.

"Hey," Anne said over to him softly, drinking in his eyes.

Spike returned her look, asking, "Yes?"

"Do you want to dance?" Anne asked. Spike didn't even reply -- he didn't need to. Instead, he extended his hand and took hers. The two headed onto the dance floor and then faced each other. Spike rested his hands on her waist as the two swayed back and forth to the slow beats.

The two stood there together, holding each other, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Anne breathed in his scent and took a small step back. "I have something that I have to tell you now."

Spike gazed down at her in love. "What's that, love?"

"I think I've figured everything out," Anne said. 

"And that is?"

"I...I think I get it now," Anne started, looking at him in the eyes. "I'm Anne, the current slayer who can kick ass better than anyone, but...but I'm Buffy. Her soul, her *essence*, is inside of me. I *am* her, and I can deal with that now. The only...the *only* person who has been constantly there for me, is...it's you, Spike."

Spike let out a small smile, not believing what she was saying. Finally, she was beginning to deal with this instead of simply ignoring it. "So, I guess you're ready to deal now, huh, Anne?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Anne paused, considering what she was going to say next. "Can you..." she hesitated, stopped, and began again, this time more forcefully. "I want you…I want *everyone* to call me Buffy. I am Buffy." Both of them smiled at that. 

"Okay...Buffy," Spike said. It felt like such a relief to finally be able to say her name again without his heart aching and the memories of his failures rushing back to him.

"And I have to tell you something. It's something that I've been trying to say for one hundred years, and I need to let you know," Anne said, taking a small step toward Spike, pressing her body against his. "I love you."

Spike froze, looking at her in amazement. "Say it again."

Buffy smiled. "Spike, I love you."

Spike picked her up and spun her around on the floor, raining kisses all over her face. "And that's all I need pet, that's all I need for the rest of my life."

~~~~~

The end.

Thank you for all the support and kind feedback through the course of this story. I hope you enjoyed the fic -- leave me a review and let me know what you thought!


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